


On Your Shoulders

by Green_Ghostwriter



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Death, Angst, Because I'm awkward, But nothing particularly graphic, But pg, Ghost Ryan Bergara, Ghost Shane Madej, Hurt/Comfort, It is a ghost au after all, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), POV shifts, Probably some shipping, Swearing, Violence, ghost au, like a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Ghostwriter/pseuds/Green_Ghostwriter
Summary: Ryan had always wanted evidence of ghosts. He just hadn't hoped he'd get that evidence by becoming one. Possibly the only thing worse was that he'd wound up dragging his best friend down with him.





	1. Just another haunted house

**Author's Note:**

> So here we are, I'm officially writing RPF. I'm not even going to fight it.  
> Fair warning though, I can't seem to get these guys' humor right if so my life so depended on it, but I try.
> 
> (I've got a tumblr too, https://doodleydump.tumblr.com/, so yeah. Stop by and say hi maybe?)

“I know you’re not much for energies, but man, the air in here just feels really heavy.”

“That’s because it’s about 50% dust, Ryan.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and bit back the urge to strangle Shane. That would probably be bad for ratings.

“Whatever, it’s an old building.” Ryan says instead.

It was. Constructed in the early 20:th century, the factory had stood empty since the forties after the end of WW2 when it was made obsolete. It had used to be a factory, but nowadays, the only things it seemed to hold was dust.

Well, that, and a few ghosts. If the stories were to be believed.

“Do you wanna do your unsolved voice, Ry?” Shane asked with a smirk. Tall bastard didn’t even look remotely nervous.

“What can be said that hasn’t already been said? Opened as a small electronics workshop in 1914, they used to make radium dials here. Clocks that glowed in the dark, because the dials had been painted with radioactive paint.” Ryan explained.

“Right, so if we come out of here slightly glowing, there’s no cause for panic, we’re not ghosts. Just radioactive. Everybody got that?” Shane was being insufferable as usual, but Ryan couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of a green glowing Shane.

“You would be the type to intentionally dump luminescent paint over yourself just to give me a scare, wouldn’t you?” He definitely would. “Unfortunately for you, and the people who worked here, it was pretty poisonous.”

“No shit.”

“Adding insult to injury, the women who painted the dials hadn’t been informed the paint was toxic, and even used to sharpen the points of their brushes by putting them in their mouths.” Ryan gave a slight shrug.

“Wha- That- That’s just…” Shane fumbled, baffled. “Seriously, Ryan? Has anybody been in here with a Geiger counter in the last couple of years? Because I’m not getting lung cancer for this show.”

“The owners said the place was evaluated last year.” He couldn’t help but laugh as Shane feigned fear. “Anyways. When the great depression hit, the workshop closed and the building switched hands a few times. It wasn’t until WW2 that it reopened as an ammunition factory.”

“Explosives and radiation? Maybe they were onto something. Have you looked into the possibility of this being a Manhattan project cover?” Shane asked, snarky.

“Actually-“

“Don’t wanna to know, dude.”

“I wasn’t being serious! Give me some credit here!” Ryan laughed with an indignant huff. The large empty front room of the building was unsettling. It felt good to laugh. The atmosphere didn’t feel so heavy when they were joking around.

The pair walked through the rows of conveyor belts and old packing crates, the camera crew trailing behind. The ancient machines were coated in a thick layer of dust. Graffiti was covering the walls.

“I like that one.” Shane said, pointing to a particularly off-proportion pentagram on the left wall. “Kid got artistic talent.”

“The bubble letters are a bit too much for my taste.” Ryan replied cuttingly. “You want to try doing a spirit box session?”

“No?”

“Sucks to be you, dude.” Ryan said, picking up the radio from his overflowing backpack. Ignoring Shane’s loud objections.

Seconds later the room was crackling to life with sounds, the radio screeching loudly. The group had moved to under the tall stairs, to try to block out the fading light still pouring in trough the glassless windows. It would be dark soon enough, it wasn’t much of an issue, but weather for the sake of atmosphere or ghosts it just felt better to do these sort of things in the dark. Ryan shifted uncomfortably in the cold air. It probably wasn’t a cold spot, just the cold wind pouring in trough the building’s broken shell, but that didn’t make it any less eerie. He looked at Shane for confirmation, and was rewarded with a slightly impatient nod. As if to say; _Let’s just get this over with, Ryan._

_Shut up, dick._

Yeah, he was so not looking forward to spending the night here.

“Ermh… I-If there’s anybody here with us tonight, please make your presence known.” Starting off polite, Ryan thought. Best to show that at least he was trying to be amicable before Shane inevitably starts goading the spirits. “We have this box that you might be able to communicate with us trough, so… Yeah.”

_KRRRRrrr- zzF- RGGHTTttt- ZZZZ- CCCRR- RrrrrZHHh_

The box screeched noncommittal noises that could really mean anything. That, but also something more. An odd, irregular clicking noise. Like a broken clock, or drops of water hitting tile. One, two, two, then one. Maybe the channels changing? But that usually didn’t happen.

Frustrating, but Ryan supposed that if four to five random dudes had come into his house and started trying to talk to him late in the evening, he’d be a bit standoffish too.

_What are you, paranormal Jehovah’s witnesses?_

“Spirits?” Ryan started up again. “My name is Ryan Bergara. If you can hear me, could you please tell us your name?”

_FZ- ZZzz- CTTttttSsss-_

Great. The clicking was growing more frequent, but nothing else except the regular buzzing was heard. Ryan was just about to speak again when another noise made his heart lodge itself in his throat. A human voice. No question about it. It was a human voice, humming to an unheard melody, and it sounded _close_.

A man’s voice.

Ryan’s knees almost gave out before his mind connected the dots. He turned to Shane, giving him the coldest death stare he could muster.

“Are you humming _Radioactive?_ ”

Shane had the nerve to smirk.

Ryan laughed. Frustrated, but relaxing substantially. “Fuck you dude, seriously. You’re such a god damn prick.”

_SSSss- szzz- Fffftttzzz- **Language** \- Rzzz- ___

____

Ryan immediately froze up again.

____

“Did you hear that?” He squeaked.

____

“Holy shit. Guess this ghost’s not a fan of swearing.” Shane replied, completely unphased.

____

“Was- Was that you just now?” Ryan asked the air.

____

_CCCccfff- KKzz- FFFffzzz-_

____

Nothing. The radio spewed nothing but dead air for a few more seconds before Ryan finally gave in to Shane’s complaining and shut it off. He could have sworn he heard one last _*click*_ , but then the room went silent again.

____

That had seemed like a semi-intelligent answer, but Ryan figured it’d take more than that to count for substantial evidence. It was just one word, to be fair.

____

Ryan turned to Shane, corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

____

“I know you’re going to brush that off, but at least admit it was one hell of a coincidence.”

____

“I’m just saying, if it was a sentient being it would probably say something more. Besides, you know the one-word rule, Ryan. That just seemed kinda rude to me.” Shane shrugged.

____

“Who knows, we did randomly walk into it’s workplace and start bickering loudly. If I was working late at the office and two schmucks randomly walked up to me trying to talk, I’d probably tell them to shut it too.”

____

“You wouldn’t have asked, you would have stabbed it with a pen. We don’t bother Ryan when he’s editing.” Shane said pointedly to the camera.

____

“Well at least that way I’d give them some solid evidence.” Ryan retorted.

____

“And people say _I’m_ the demon.” Muttered Shane with a small laugh.

____

___________

____

After their brief encounter trough the spirit box, the group decided to move on to the second floor if the building.

____

“Well this is cheery.“ Shane said brightly.

____

It really wasn’t. It was dark and cold and seemed even dustier than the first floor. But that was about what they had expected.

____

It didn’t seem like even the owners went up here.

____

_Maybe there was a good reason for that?_

____

Nah, Ryan was just getting paranoid.

____

The floorboards creaked under them, and the walls rattled in protest as they put down their equipment. Ryan guessed this was where they’d be sleeping tonight, but that was still a few hours off. For now, he decided to continue with his monologue.

____

“During it’s time as an ammunitions factory, this was where they cut metal for use in the weapons. Some believe the manager here, a Mr Robert Abbot, was actually a secret Nazi spy. Abbot was known as a man of ruthless efficiency, who’d often have workers doing overtime for little to no pay.” Ryan had spent hours memorising the story, quite proud of his delivery.

____

“Why would anybody agree to that if they weren’t even payed?” Shane asked, baffled. “Did they just want to be polite? _‘Oh, I don’t know… He asked really nicely you guys.’_ ”

____

“Well, he probably threatened to fire them if they refused.” Ryan laughed at Shane’s mimicked voice. He sounded just a little more like a doofus than normal.

____

“Good! I’d want to get fired if I worked there!”

____

“Maybe not if your only other option was enlisting in WW2.” Ryan retorted triumphantly. _Wriggle your way out of that one, asshole._

____

“Well- But- Erh…” Shane fidgeted, then abruptly dropped the subject, admitting defeat. “Okay, yeah I would not particularly like to join WW2.”

____

“Because you’d be dead?” Ryan asked.

____

“Because I’d be dead.” Shane answered with a small nod.

____

“You are a very large target.” Ryan agreed.

____

“Whatever. This manager’s a dirtbag. I don’t care much for it.”

____

“Clearly, neither did the workers.” Ryan picked up his narration near flawlessly where Shane stopped. It was nice how their relationship worked like that. “Towards the end of the war, Abbot apparently committed suicide inside this building. That’s when the real activity is reported to have begun. Lights would go out on their own, keys and tools would go missing, angry shouts were heard in empty rooms and there was even a man who got pushed down the stairs.”

____

“Jesus Christ, Ryan!” Shane exclaimed in mock offence. “There’s no nice spirits here? No Casper the friendly ghost?”

____

“Well, people have actually reported seeing the apparition of a young boy. They say he died in an accident with the heavy machines on the assembly floor.” Ryan confirmed. He wasn’t so sure about that, actually. He was pretty sure child labour hadn’t been very prominent in the forties. But it was an interesting, if sad, legend non the less. He couldn’t imagine being stuck like that, trapped in a horrible factory, scared and alone, and Ryan was an adult for crying out loud.

____

“Are there any records of that whatsoever?” Shane interrupted his train of thought without an ounce of concern. Ever the sceptic.

____

“Well, technically no but-“

____

“I rest my case.”

____

“ **But** , don’t you think it makes sense that the piece of shit manager would try to keep it hidden if a child died horribly here?” Ryan tried. Grasping at straws to defend the legend did feel kinda stupid, but they had a formula.

____

“Maybe you should stop insulting the violent Nazi ghost.” Shane suggested. Yep, nobody messed with the formula.

____

“What, because it’s your job?” Ryan rolled his eyes. Like _'hey-fuck-you-ghosts' Shane_ had any right to tell Ryan he should be polite to the spirits.

____

Anyways.

____

“Is this the manager’s office?” Ryan asked, approaching a door on the far wall. The wooden floor once again creaked audibly as he walked across the room. He heard the rest of the crew following behind.

____

“You think it’s unlocked?” Shane asked. Ryan had a feeling where this was going.

____

“I’m not going in there alone.”

____

Shane rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile. “Scared of the big bad spy ghost?”

____

“In fact, yes. Because I actually have an inkling of self-preservation.” _Unlike someone._

____

“Fine, fine, we’ll scout it out together first.” Shane responded in an amused tone, pushing the heavy double doors open without hesitation. Holding the door open.

____

“I’m not going in fist. You’ll slam that door behind me.”

____

“Why I’d _never_.” Shane responded, fake hurt on his voice. But he entered first non the less.

____

As much as Shane annoyed him, Ryan really did appreciate him taking the lead whenever Ryan got too nervous. He could do without the attitude, but he knew that if push came to shove Shane would drop it. He seemed to have a sixth sense for recognising whenever Ryan went from ‘scared’ to ‘genuinely distressed’ and never pushed it too far. There was no real malice in the insults.

____

They entered the room, and found it looking much like the rest of the building. The walls were covered with crackled white plaster, aged brickwork showing trough. Naked bulbs hanging from the high ceiling. Only this room was a lot smaller than the assembly floor outside, housing no machines, but a few grey desks.

____

The most noticeable part of the room though, was the open wall built as a balcony to the assembly line a floor below. Ryan approached it with Shane close behind. The camera crew spreading out to get some environment shots.

____

“Having a ledge like this seems pretty precarious.” Ryan pointed out.

____

“Yeah.” Shane agreed. “Not to mention all the noise those huge machines would have made.”

____

Ryan shrugged. “Guess the guy really didn’t trust his employees.”

____

“Big brother’s watching.” Shane concurred. Ryan really didn’t like this room. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like they were being watched.

____

_Or like you ate a bad burger on our way here._

____

Okay, that sounded way too much like Shane. Ryan already had to put up with Shane in real life, he didn’t need him to be in his mind as well.

____

“You think this was where the manager jumped?” Ryan asked instead.

____

“He jumped?” For a second, Shane almost looked startled.

____

“I told you that already.” Ryan looked at Shane accusingly.

____

“Not that he jumped, just that he offed himself.” Shane had the grace to look offended at the insinuation he hadn’t been paying attention. “I don’t just tune you out, Ryan! Even when you’re talking stupid.”

____

“Okay, yeah, he jumped.” Ryan amended, before he remembered something. “Or, that’s the official statement. Some people think he might have been pushed.”

____

“Well, he seemed like a shady dude.” Shane just shrugged. “What can you say? Sometimes spies get murked.” He shifted his weight, absently minded swaying like a fucking palm in a breeze. Ryan though he heard a crack, but didn’t point it out.

____

He didn’t need to give people any more of a reason to call him a pansy when the ghosts were already doing it for him. Instead, he leaned over the railing to get a good look at the room below.

____

“The floor down there is concrete.” Ryan noted out loud.

____

“Yeah, that ought to do it.” Shane confirmed, referencing the manager’s death.

____

Then everything happened very fast.

____

Ryan looked back at Shane, just about to reply, when he saw it. The rotted planks of the wooden floor bending under Shane’s weight. Cracks forming between them.

____

Ryan froze. Before-

____

“ _ **Shane!**_ ” Ryan yelled. Reaching for him, trying to push him away from the ledge before the floor caved. He took a single step forwards, shifting his weight too fast, putting his foot down too hard.

____

Then suddenly the railing he’d been leaning on wasn’t there anymore. He stumbled, and then he realized the floor wasn’t there anymore either. He managed to find Shane’s face in the blur of motion, looking so uncharacteristically startled. It would have almost been funny under any other circumstances, the way he stared for a split second before his mind processed what had happened. The delayed reaction before gravity took its toll. Shane wasn’t supposed to get worked up like that.

____

This _wasn’t_ supposed to happen.

____

Ryan briefly registered a scream, but didn’t know weather he was the one screaming, or if it was one of the crew members. It wasn’t Shane, he told himself. Shane didn’t scream. He didn’t get scared. Didn’t get hurt.

____

He wasn’t hurt.

____

He wasn’t falling.

____

Ryan had pushed him away from the edge. He was sure he had.

____

_He had to have._

____

It was all wrong. It couldn’t be happening. He’d read about all these horrible ways to die, but no way was it actually, really, happening to them. It couldn’t be. These things didn’t happen. Ryan managed to tear his gaze from the ground he saw rapidly approaching. He looked up, and his mind just barely had time to consciously process that there was another figure falling after him. The ceiling opening up like a gaping maw, broken planks and splinters coming to sharp points around the hole like the teeth of a beast.

____

_Like a bear._

____

The mind was funny like that. Ryan was literally falling to his god-damn death, and he was thinking about _bears_. It was ridiculous.

____

He tried to turn. Think clearly. In any way brace himself for the impact. But there was no time left.

____

The back of his head his head made contact with the concrete before he could turn, the impact forcing his chin down towards his own chest like in a deep nod, baring the back of his neck. His spine.

____

Time nearly came to a stop, before he felt the floor against his back. Or, he didn’t really feel it. He didn’t feel much of anything. But he was sure it had happened. A sickening _*snap*_ filled his skull, and then everything went dark.

____

He came to rest belly-up in a heap on the floor.

____

Ryan didn’t get up

____


	2. Crashing down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this time. This was a bit painful to make. So... Yeah. Sorry bout that. It is a _ghost_ au after all.

Shane had always been very tall. Humorously tall even. But never had he been more thankful for that, because it meant he’d have a comparatively smaller drop, body to ceiling ratio considered. But all he could think was; is Ryan going to be okay?

Ryan was turning in the air, thrashing in a panic. Screaming.

_God, why is he turning his back against the floor? He’ll land on his head and break his neck and-_

_Be rational about this._

Panic wasn’t going to make anything better. That’ how people got themselves killed. They panic and then they do something stupid or they freeze up and don’t react right. Panic won’t save you. _Focus_.

Be the rational person he says you are.

Shane tried to think back to what him and Ryan had been talking about in the DB Cooper episode. How you were supposed to handle a fall to not get yourself killed. But all he could remember was; _don’t wear loafers_.

_That’s really fucking helpful. Thanks a lot, you piece of shit brain._

He forced his eyes open, suddenly realising he’d been squeezing them shut. He forced himself to look at the ground, trying to determine the best way to land. Cats landed on their feet. That was a saying, right? He decided to try that.

He tried to position himself as best as he could.

_Arms around your head, don’t break your skull. You need that._

He felt his legs make contact, or, one leg did. One leg had hit the ground first, absorbing majority of the shock. It felt like somebody had just stabbed him through his thigh, because _god_ , did that hurt. The bone had snapped. Splintered like a toothpick. He just knew it had. He faintly registered that his pelvis and back hurt too, but that was drowned out by the searing pain in his legs. His vision briefly turned a blinding white. But he was okay. His head felt okay.

He was alive.

He’d wound up lying curled up on the dirty concrete, but couldn’t care less. He was so pumped up on adrenaline that it was almost exhilarating. It was a rush.

He was _alive_.

But then realization hit, and he felt his world begin to unravel. Crashing down around him like the floor he’d just fallen trough. Because he’d heard another loud _*thump*_ that hadn’t been his own body hitting the floor. And it hit him like a fucking freight train that Ryan wasn’t screaming anymore. He wasn’t making any sounds at all.

Ryan wasn’t responding, and suddenly all of Shane’s god knows how many fractures seemed so ridiculously insignificant.

Ryan wasn’t responding.

Shane spun his head frantically, desperately trying to find Ryan trough the swirling dust and falling debris. Looking for any type of movement. They’d been just an arm’s reach away from each other when they fell. Why wasn’t Ryan there anymore?

Shane wanted so badly to just reach out and touch him. Feel his pulse. Assure himself that Ryan would be okay.

_He had to be._

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ryan was just supposed to get a little startled. He wasn’t supposed to get hurt. They were supposed to come to a creepy place, walk around for a bit, Shane would mess with Ryan a little and Ryan would scream a lot. Then it was supposed to be over. It was supposed to all be okay afterwards. They were supposed to go back to some warm hotel with the rest of the crew, or go out for drinks, or drive home together. It was supposed to be okay. _Fun_.

Where had things gone so horribly, _horribly_ , wrong?

Shane’s mind was racing a mile a minute. His thoughts, a whirlwind of horrible ‘what if’ scenarios.

_He had to find Ryan._

It had to be okay. _It had to_.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the dust settled enough for Shane to see.

Ryan was lying just a few feet away. His face was pale, hair matted with dust and mortar. Dust, mortar, and something more.

_Sticky._

It was red and warm and pooled up around him, and Shane felt like he wanted to throw up. It was soaking that sweater Ryan liked to wear. Staining the cold, unforgiving, concrete. Ryan looked so small. So broken. Like a tiny baby bird someone had shot down out of the sky.

Shane tried to reach out for Ryan. Pull himself close enough to try and help him somehow. His broken leg dragged limply behind him. Snagging on the rubble covering the floor. It hurt, but he barely noticed it.

“Ryan?” Shane tried. His voice was coarse, his throat felt like sandpaper. Speaking hurt. Everything hurt.

His entire chest felt battered and bruised.

“Ryan, please…” Ryan wasn’t responding. Even as Shane harshly shoved his shoulders, he didn’t stir. He just laid limp, slowly going colder.

Shane was on his side now, next to the body. He’d cupped Ryan’s face. Silently pleading he’d open his eyes.

“Please… Please _don’t_ do this…”

Shane vaguely heard yelling from the now substantially more unsteady floor above. Screams and heavy, rushed, footsteps. But they didn’t stick to him. Bounced off him like he was a stone wall. The only scream he could hear was Ryan’s. Still ringing in Shane’s head. Like it was all he’d ever heard. Something that a tiny, painful, voice deep inside his chest told him he might never get to hear again.

“I’ll believe in ghosts, or demons or whatever you want me to, just _please_ open your eyes…”

_Please don’t be dead._

He was in a daze, but even so Shane noticed the loud _*crack*_ from the floor above and flinched at the sound. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded why all of this was happening. Why he was forced to sit there in a pool of red, holding his best friend’s broken body. That this had all been entirely preventable. He felt anger bubbling up inside of him, pushing aside the grief. It was such a waste. It was so unfair.

But he didn’t have the energy to keep feeding into the rage, and it quickly washed off him. He just felt so tired. He was starting to become detached. Like the emotional overload had blown a fuse in his brain and suddenly he couldn’t feel anything.

He couldn’t even be bothered to scream as another piece of the ceiling was dislodged by the crew’s footsteps and came crashing down on top of him. He just felt empty. He felt so empty.

And then he felt nothing.


	3. The most haunted location

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three, here we go! I usually get these chapters beta read, but my beta reader is out of town... I really wanted to post this though, since it's been a long week and I wanted to relax with some writing.

_Running. Shouting. Crashes._

At first, there was just sounds. Was this what dying felt like? Ryan almost felt dizzy. Lightheaded. But it didn’t hurt. The sounds were growing more and more distant. Everything was fuzzy, like his grip on the real world was slipping.

“Ryan, please…”

He managed to focus trough the fog in his head. Focusing on Shane’s voice. But it was faint. Muffled. Like there was a barrier between them. Like he was miles under water, floating listlessly in the dark and cold. The sounds grew more and more distant, like he was sinking to the bottom of a vast ocean.

The voice sounded so small. It was painful, but the silent pleading was drifting in and out of focus. Ryan felt a pang of guilt, but couldn’t muster the strength to turn back towards the noises. He didn’t know how. The light was fading. The crushing atmosphere restrained him. The “ocean” wasn’t water, it was tar. He couldn’t swim through that.

It was easier to just let go.

_Go away, Shane. You’ll be okay. Let me rest._

He felt drowsy. Almost content to just fade away. Go to sleep. Like there was a blanket of warmth and comfort wrapped around him.

“… _Please_ just open your eyes…”

There was tears in the voice. Desperation. But it was so hard to hear it. Ryan was almost out of reach. Too tired to fight it. He was almost crossed over. So nearly gone.

But then, a crash echoed out through emptiness. Loud and clear, despite the distance.

Suddenly, Ryan was snapped back to reality. Rudely awoken. And then everything hurt. It felt like he’d been drifting off in a car, on his way to somewhere else, and then that car had _crashed_. The transition was that abrupt. There was no warmth left. No sense of security. Just pain. All over his back and centred in his neck. He didn’t understand. For a second, he just fumbled as his brain struggled against the wave of sensations to think properly. He’d been so ready to fade away, and then something had barred him from moving on and he’d been harshly thrown back into reality. Back into that horrible building.

_A crash._

Ryan spun around. He was disoriented, all the noises suddenly flooding his mind. He was bombarded with thoughts and feelings. Fear, pain, confusion…

_What happened? What was that noise?_

Everything had been so peaceful just a second ago. Now, Ryan felt more like he was trapped in a whirlpool. There was sound everywhere. Screams, footsteps, and a deafening roar inside his own skull. Ryan clutched his head, and his legs gave way. He was on his knees, gritting his teeth. Trying to block out the noises.

It felt like his soul was _screaming._

The large room suddenly felt so claustrophobic. Like the walls were closing in on him.

There was another crash, a low groan, and he flinched. But after that, the noise started to subside again. But this time there wasn’t any blissful unawareness to greet him. No oblivion. All his senses were still on high alert, there was still a ringing inside his head.

He was still in pain.

For what felt like an eternity Ryan just sat there, holding his own head, trembling. Waiting for the worst to pass. It felt like a bomb had gone off just a few feet away, and his ears were still ringing.

Slowly, he regained his composure.

Ryan looked up, blinking in the harsh light of the camera crew’s flashlights. At least they’d made it down safely, but they weren’t looking at him. Just standing frozen in the doorway. Ryan looked up, his eyes finding Tj, their ever present cameraman. Wide eyed and pale. Ryan’s brain sputtered uselessly, still fighting against the chaos. Trying to make sense of what was happening. Why it was happening. Tj couldn’t see him. Nobody could see him. They were staring right through him, like Ryan wasn’t there. Focusing on something behind him.

_Shane._

Ryan didn’t want to turn around. He really didn’t. Because suddenly he understood where that low groan had come from. Why Shane was quiet now. And his world went dark.

Ryan didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to confirm his fear. He just wanted to keep existing in his own little bubble where he was the only one who’d fallen through the floor and where Shane would be okay.

_You made him come here. ___

____

Someone ran towards him, yelling for the others to call for help, and Ryan flinched as Tj’s legs passed right trough him. Like he wasn’t even there. Just an illusion. Smoke and mirrors. Ryan was breathing heavily. His whole world spinning. The others were yelling back and forth, someone was crying. But it was all unintelligible white noise to him.

____

_This is your fault._

____

He had to turn around. He had to know.

____

But his body _-the residue of what had used to be his body-_ refused to move. He was telling himself to just turn around. Just look.

____

_Just face the damage you’ve done._

____

He closed his eyes. Willing his body to move. But he was stuck. The rational part of him told him to just turn around, just get it over with. But the other part of himself was pulling all the stops not to. Like if he didn’t see it, it didn’t exist.

____

“ **Ryan!?** ” Hearing his own name almost snapped him out of his daze. On instinct, he turned as prompted, before realizing what he was doing and squeezing his eyes shut. Had he seen it? He’d just caught a glimpse, it could have been anything. Ryan’s stomach was at his feet, fully aware that he was now facing where they had fallen. That if he opened his eyes, there’d be no turning back. It’d be real. This was for real.

____

Ryan forced his eyes open with apprehension. Bracing himself for what he’d see.

____

There was movement, but it wasn’t Shane, it was the others frantically trying to clear the debris. They were blocking his view, but he saw plenty enough. He couldn’t see his own face, but his body was there. Grey sweater and all. Right where he’d fallen, a pool of blood around it. But Ryan couldn’t be sure who’d been bleeding, as Shane was right next to him. Limp and lifeless, but still cradling Ryan’s body protectively, as if he’d been trying to shield it from the falling rubble.

____

Ryan really did look tiny, held that close by his giant of a friend.

____

Shane’s injuries were horrible. A leg very clearly broken, bent at an unnatural angle, and it looked like his ribcage had just caved in on itself. Like his entire torso was dented. It didn’t even look real. Ryan had seen a lot of crime scene photos, sure, but he'd never seen blunt force trauma like that. It was horrible, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

____

He’d lived trough the fall. Ryan understood that, and that was so extremely cruel he couldn’t understand it. Shane survived, but that just bought him more time to be in pain. There was a smear of blood over the concrete, like he’d dragged himself across the floor. Trying to get out of the way.

____

_Trying to help me._

____

Shane had been alive, and it had been painful. He would have lived. He should have lived. And then the ceiling came crashing down. How was that fair?

____

Ryan felt lightheaded again. Like this was all some insane fever dream and he was really sleeping safely a floor above. But he knew it wasn’t. They hadn’t had time to go to sleep.

____

This was _real_.

____

Somehow, Ryan found his voice, but it was just a small whimper. He was actually glad he was already on his knees, because he felt he might collapse. His vision was swimming, and he had to catch himself with his hands just to keep himself off the floor.

____

He was dead.

____

_Shane_ was dead.

____

They had come to this place looking for ghosts, and the irony of the situation was just so completely awful that it wasn't even remotely funny. A sob wracked his body and he heaved, but nothing would come.

____

There was nothing he could do. There was nothing left.

____

Ryan stared as people yelled and cried and shook the bodies. But nothing happened. He felt hollow, before a new thought dawned on him.

____

_How am I supposed to move on now?_

____

He assumed that was what he’d been so close to doing before. He’d been so close to moving on before the ceiling collapsed on Shane, and something at the very core of Ryan’s being had objected. Suddenly he’d refused to pass over. Like he couldn’t find rest without knowing Shane would be okay. Was it just because it was his fault they’d come here? His fault they’d died.

____

_You killed your best friend._

____

_What makes you think you deserve to be at peace?_

____

It started as a quiet sniffle. Then somehow, he was lying on the floor. Curled up in a mess of fear and hurt, sobbing uncontrollably. Wailing loudly. Screaming names. Crying out for people who were never going to hear him calling. A tiny voice inside his head told him to stop. That crying like he was a toddler who’d lost his mom at the grocery store was undignified. But it wasn’t like anyone was going to hear him, so he cried. He cried for all he’d lost. All Shane had lost because of him. And because he’d lost _Shane._

____

Ryan needed him. Needed him like a scared child with a favourite stuffed animal. Whenever he was scared, Shane had always been there. He’d always been there to lighten the mood and anchor Ryan down when his world was spinning out of control.

____

But Shane wasn’t there anymore.

____

_Why wasn’t he there?_

____

___________

____

 

____

Ryan had eventually managed to collect himself. But he barely even felt like himself anymore. Like a piece of himself had died and stayed dead when they’d fallen. Like he was just a shadow. Only barely there.

____

Time passed in a blur before his eyes. There had been sirens. Paramedics. Police. But it was all meaningless to him. He’d sat by the bodies, hollow and lost. Hoping in vain someone would notice him. Anyone, really. Until the bodies had been taken away, and suddenly there was nothing left for him to hang on to. He had nothing to show for, except a hole in the ceiling and a dark stain on the concrete. There was nothing. Ryan didn’t move. There was no reason. There was no reason for anything.

____

Sunrise came and went. Light shone trough the windows and lit up the room. But the light never touched him. He couldn’t feel the warmth on his skin. As the day progressed, the pain in his back slowly receded, becoming only a dull ache. But the lump in his throat and the stones in his stomach never left. Was this “life” now? Just a monotonous grey fog. Just hollow, pointless, grief.

____

More people passed through the building, but nobody ever noticed him. Police. Unknown people. The owners… Someone had left a candle. Another took a photo.

____

The hours melted together and soon enough it was dark again. Day had come and gone in a matter of minutes. How many times was he going to have to repeat this cycle? Forever?

____

He’d detached himself from the world, but he still lingered. He still sat on that dirty floor. He’d never gotten back up when he’d fallen. But he wasn’t really there. It wasn’t like him. The usual him would never have let his guard down like that. But he couldn’t be bothered.

____

The usual him would have noticed the other presence in the room long before he felt the hand on his shoulder.

____

Ryan screamed. For the first time in hours he uttered sound. He recoiled from the touch, throwing himself to the floor. It was such a rapid motion that it almost felt like it was supposed to. He could almost feel the slipstream of the panicked movement. Almost hear the scream echo off the high walls. Fresh fear temporarily overtaking the resignation. He spun his head, meeting the other entity.

____

_Shane?_

____

His heart was racing. He could have sworn he saw that familiar dopey grin shining down at him. For just a second. He could almost hear it. The warm, calming, voice. _‘Jesus Ryan, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’_

____

“Sha-“

____

No.

____

No, that wasn’t Shane.

____

Ryan recoiled even further from the figure staring down at him, feeling his heart sink as his brain finally registered what he was seeing. He’d seen Shane. He was sure he had. But the face that stared down on him wasn’t Shane’s.

____

Shane wasn’t there.

____

_You’re seeing things._

____

Ryan felt his heart break. He’d gotten his hopes up, and now they were shattered like the glass panes on the windows. He was such a god damn basketcase. He hadn’t seen Shane. He wasn’t _going_ to see Shane.

____

He’d just seen what he wanted to see.

____

Ryan felt new tears building in his eyes as he stared at the woman in front of him in betrayal.

____

She was translucent and faintly green, dressed in late 20’s clothing. A gentle face looking down at Ryan. Concern in her sunken eyes.

____

“Holy fuck… Shit…” Ryan managed to squeak. Equal parts terrified and distraught.

____

“Language.” Her voice was rough and coarse, yet very faint. She grimaced as she spoke. Like the words had caused her pain. Ryan was on the verge of running but stayed put. Almost forgetting that there wasn’t any reason left for him to be scared of ghosts. There was no reason he should be scared of this woman. The fear was just so instinctive. It was such a big part of him. Despite everything, Ryan was still scared. Fear was familiar. In a way, it was almost comforting. The irrational fears made it easier to ignore the things he really should be afraid of.

____

Fear of the dark. Fear of the unknown. The fear was such a primal _human_ feeling that it almost made him feel alive again. He could almost hear his heart hammering away inside of his chest. A heart that logic told him wasn’t really beating. The fear was all he had left.

____

_*Click. Click.*_

____

Ryan’s attention snapped back to the spectral woman. She gave him a long, calculated look, then made a deliberate clicking noise with her tongue. Ryan looked at her quizzically. Breathing finally beginning to settle again.

____

“Excuse me?” He was still reeling from the shock, but his natural curious streak compelled him to speak to the woman. He was actually, legitimately, making contact with a ghost. A full bodied apparition.

____

_Wait till I show Shane-_

____

_Oh. Right._

____

The woman clicked again, like she could tell his attention was drifting. She probably could. Ryan had never been particularly good at subtlety. At least that was what doing _Unsolved_ had taught him. The viewers could read him surprisingly well, even when he tried to bluff. He supposed that was just part of the deal when he experienced things so vividly. Or maybe he just didn’t feel the need to hide. Being the jittery one had always been his role after all. But he felt unsteady without Shane’s carefree and somewhat crude callousness to balance him out.

____

Ryan pushed himself back onto his knees. Like it or not, Shane wasn’t there anymore. He had to stand on his own. The woman offered him a hand without a word.

____

___________

____

Somewhere. Deep in the building, another entity awoke.

____

___________

____


	4. It'll be okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for reading, and for all your awesome comments and kudos. It really warms my heart.  
> Secondly, this is the first chapter where I've switched p.o.v character in the middle of a chapter (because otherwise i'd have had to split this in two) So if you've got any opinions on that, I'd love to hear. If it's a big gripe for any of you guys, let me know. I've also been thinking a bit about my non existent upload schedule. Do I upload too often? Idk, any opinions?  
> Either way, thanks for sticking with me!

For the next several days, this was Ryan existence. Stuck somewhere in between life and death. The woman had never said another word to him since that night. Ryan figured maybe she couldn’t. But she never strayed far from him. Always hovering nearby, but seemingly trying to give him space.

The days flew by and the nights dragged on. The woman was a constant, but Ryan never caught even a glimpse of Shane. Maybe he truly wasn’t there? They had discussed it, at least once. Suggesting how maybe Ryan had a better chance of becoming a ghost because he believed in it. How would Shane have even reacted to something so earthshattering? He didn’t even believe in ghosts. Maybe it was for the better he hadn’t become one. Maybe it was better to spare him that realisation. The pain and confusion.

But a part of Ryan still wished Shane was there with him. He hated that part of himself. It made him sick. He should be happy Shane wasn’t stuck. All else was selfish, because wishing to have Shane there with Ryan meant wishing Shane wasn’t at peace. Wishing he wasn’t okay. All so Ryan wouldn’t have to suffer alone. But he knew it was better that way.

Still, he couldn’t help but perk up at every little sound. Hoping, praying, to see that familiar face. And every time berating himself for it.

God, he missed Shane.

Late evenings were the worst, Ryan had noticed. It was when they’d fallen, after all. For several hours every evening, the crushing feelings in his chest amplified. The hopelessness. Every evening, no matter where in the building Ryan had gone, he’d always find himself back under the second-floor balcony. Like when in a dream, you lose focus for just a second and inexplicably find yourself somewhere else. Ryan didn’t question it. It was just part of his existence now. Sitting in the pile of rubble, lost and alone. For an hour, all the feelings of that first night would return and threaten to crush him. The fear, the loss, the complete hollowness that reached to his soul.

One of those particularly bad evenings the woman had approached him again. Ryan had sat in the dark amongst the shadows of the jagged floor, trying desperately to breathe around the renewed fear in his lungs. Managing only to suck in sharp shallow breaths. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating. Every small noise made Ryan tense up. The other rooms of the building weren’t as bad, even at night. But every fibre of Ryan’s being felt violently ill whenever he found himself sat on that same dirty concrete floor, just trying to muster the strength to get up on wobbly legs and stagger back out like a deer taking it’s first steps.

He hated the dark even more than he’d done when he was alive.

_When he was alive._

It was almost strange how fast Ryan had come to accept the situation as fact. But, once a believer always a believer. It wasn’t as much about whether it was real or not anymore, but rather how to make it bearable.

The woman had approached him. Clicking once, then pointedly looking at him. It was her way of communicating. She’d demonstratively tapped the glass of a lightbulb on the far end of the wall, and with a feeble flicker the dirtied glass had lit up with a warm glow. Somewhat easing the weight in his chest. The woman became fainter in the light, but Ryan could feel she was still there. Silently nudging him in the right direction. Trying to wordlessly tell him what to do.

She wasn’t much for company. He still wished it was Shane. He would probably always rather wish it was Shane. Ryan wasn’t sure how much he trusted the ghost, but it was better than nothing.

A few nights passed, and Ryan was testing his limits. He’d found that with a bit of effort, he could switch lights on and off as the woman had shown. Ghosts were energies. That was a thing, right? All it took was redirecting a bit of that energy trough the metal filament. A few blown fuses later and Ryan had gotten the hang of it. It was draining, but very much possible. The light felt reassuring to him. It eased the fear a little. Gave him a temporary respite. An empty sense of comfort.

And so, Ryan found himself sitting alone in the light of a solitary naked bulb on the second floor. Trying to run everything trough his mind again. He had too many questions.

The woman was still there, at the edge of his line of sight. Still hovering. Ryan wondered why she was doing that. Was she trying to help him? Or was she just curious?

Maybe she was just bored, and Ryan’s presence had given her something to do. Something to observe. She must have been there for ages. Maybe he was really just pastime to her. Entertainment. Ryan eyed her suspiciously.

“Hey… Lady?” He called out for her. If she was going to hang around the least she could do was try to answer some questions for him.

The woman floated motionlessly across the floor. It was uncanny, the way she stared without expression as she approached. Ryan couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and it was bothering him. She blinked at him, faintly tipping her head to one side, as if to tell him; _‘I’m listening.’_

Ran felt a shiver going up his spine, again reminding him of the throbbing pain in his neck. He’d almost managed to forget that.

“Are you…” Ryan fumbled over the words, incessantly staring down at the ground. He wasn’t sure where to start, and the way the woman was floating limply she towered over him, making him feel small and cornered. Ryan steeled himself and looked back up to meet her eyes. “Why are you here? Why are you following me?”

She didn’t give Ryan an answer. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened and then closed it again. The woman looked at the ground, avoiding Ryan’s eyes. He really didn’t like it.

“Okay. Whatever. Look, can you just-“ He sighed in exasperation. This was worse than the spirit box, because this time Ryan knew without a doubt that there was an entity in front of him. And yet, there was no contact.

_The spirit box._

Ryan tensed, remembering the last time he and Shane had tried to communicate through their “screeching radio”, and suddenly he remembered.

_The clicking._

This woman had been there. She’d seen them.

Ryan felt himself involuntarily taking a few steps back, apprehension dawned on him. Trough the nights he’d been stuck, Ryan had seen this ghost turn lights on and off, slam doors, toss pebbles at the windows in boredom… She wasn’t just some shapeless remnant. She could have done something much more than click trough a radio. Why hadn’t she done more? Why couldn’t she have done something, _anything_ , to stop them from going up onto the second floor? She could have stopped them. She could have-

_She could have made you fall._

_…_

_No._

_She could have._

Ryan stared at the woman in horror. No, that wasn’t possible. It’d just been an accident. Ghosts weren’t that powerful, no matter how much Shane had been goading this woman she wouldn’t _actually_ have-

Ryan screamed. The woman was reaching out for him, trying to grab his shoulder. But stopped dead in her tracks at his startled movement. It didn’t matter how frail and sickly she looked, Ryan’s mind was racing, throwing him into a panic. He felt like he was stuck in a room with a wild animal. Completely defenceless. He couldn’t help it. His mind was melting.

Deep down, Ryan knew this woman hadn’t done anything to warrant his reaction. It was just as likely to have been her fault as it would have been Tj’s or Shane’s or his. But suddenly all of the horrible, manipulative, murderers they had discussed throughout the years were coming back to him in full swing, obliterating any hope of rational thought. All he could think was; _‘What if.’_

Hell, what if she wasn’t even a ghost? How did you tell the difference between ghosts and demons? Ryan hadn’t thought about that earlier, and now it was only feeding into the panic, giving him tunnel vision. Demons pretended to be ghosts, frail, scared, feeble, ghosts. Ryan _knew_ that. It was what had happened in the Sallie house all those years ago. He was starting to hyperventilate again. The room was starting to feel cramped. Claustrophobic.

The woman once again reached out for him, a pained expression on her face as she rasped and wheezed. She was trying to talk, but it sounded like her throat had been shredded with rusty nails. It was the stuff of nightmares. Ryan felt like the doomed protagonist of a horror movie, cornered by a groaning zombie, reaching for him and stumbling forwards. It probably wasn’t her intention to frighten him, but his brain was stepping into overdrive. Frantically going into complete fight or flight mode, exaggerating and misinterpreting her attempt at a comforting gesture.

“Don’t!” Ryan yelled, his voice raised in a frantic pitch. He felt a surge of energy leaving him with the shrill scream, and a bright flash temporarily blinded him before the room went dark. He’d blown the lightbulb, glass shards raining down around him.

Ryan was left in the dark again.

The room became deathly silent. The only sounds were the shattered glass clinking against the floor, and his own shallow breathing. The woman was still there, her luminescent eyes peering at him from the darkness for just a second. Before she turned and fled.

And then he was alone. Ryan was truly, really, alone.

_It’s not fair._

* * *

_It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real._

He was dying. He was dead or dying and this was just his brain creating some insane feverish hallucinations because it wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Dying people hallucinated. It was a scientifically proven fact. Dying people had out of body experiences. It made sense. There couldn’t be much longer now. Couldn’t be much longer until his brain shut down from blood loss.

_It’s not real._

This wasn’t real. None of it was real. He kept repeating the words like a mantra. He’d fallen from the second floor, the building had high ceilings. He’d gotten buried in trash and debris. He was dying.

_You’re losing blood, you’re not getting enough air. You’re dying._

_It’s normal._

_It makes sense._

“…shane…” He looked up. Hearing his own name called.

_Shane._

It was just a small whimper, but for just a second Shane could have sworn it sounded like Ryan. But, it wasn’t. There was no way. Ryan was gone, there was no way-

_Hallucinations, Shane. Hallucinations._

It was the rational answer. He was just as susceptible to seeing and hearing things as anybody else. But years of Ryan’s theories were nagging at his mind. _“What if we’re both dead? What if we’re-“_

_Ghost’s aren’t real, Ryan. You’re dead._

He wasn’t watching his own body from the outside because he was a “ghost”. It was the oldest argument in the book. Out of body experiences. But he hadn’t imagined it’d feel so _real_.

_That’s probably what most people think._

He wanted to believe it. He truly wanted to be able to believe that they we’re still there. Still together. If it meant admitting defeat, fine. He’d happily say ghosts were real, if it meant he could truly believe they wouldn’t just fade into oblivion. It was scary. He didn’t want that. Shane didn’t want to fade away. Just be erased. He wanted to be able to pretend that there was some form of ghostly afterlife. That he’d still be around.

But his mind refused. It didn’t make sense. It _wasn’t_ real. It couldn’t be.

It was a million other things before it was ghosts.

So Shane just sat there. Waiting for it to be over. Waiting for the dream to end. But it didn’t. It just kept going. Time was passing in a blur, but Shane could tell it was passing non-the less. Time dilution, maybe? But it didn’t stop. Days came and went without interruption. Without end. But just as soon as a moment was over, it disappeared from Shane’s mind. Nothing stuck, noting happened.

He could barely think.

Shane scarcely recalled a concept him and Ryan had discussed for a video. “Catatonia”. A shock state of feeling and thinking nothing. Was this what that felt like? Shane felt like he was a video camera someone had left on but forgotten to hit record. He saw, and he heard, but didn’t register it.

Although, there wasn’t much reason for him to do anything, if it wasn’t real anyways. If at any time the dying dream could end. There was no reason for him to react to it. He wasn’t going to humour his breaking psyche. He just wanted it to be over with so he could move on.

He didn’t know how he was still hanging on.

___________

 

Time passed. Shane didn’t know how long had gone, but he still stubbornly remained. He could recall having faintly heard voices, cries and footsteps. Vaguely remembered lights turning on and off. Even in his detached state. So he assumed he still wasn’t completely gone. But, he didn’t have the energy to care.

But then, he dimly became aware of another presence.

_A “presence”? You sound like Ryan._

_Wishful thinking._

He tried to ignore it. There was safety in indifference. But the nagging feeling didn’t go away.

Shane meekly raised his head, looking out trough the emptiness. There was something there, right in front of his face. He could practically feel the heat coming off it. But he couldn’t make it out. It was blurred, and not just because he didn’t have his glasses. He hadn’t focused for long, and he felt that he was just barely conscious.

But as he tried to make it out, the figure slowly came into focus. The room still just a dark blur behind it. It was a woman, faintly translucent, staring at him silently. She looked older than her features belied. Exhausted. Deep lines etched across her features.

Shane decided he was too tired to care, letting his head fall again.

A dainty hand took his, and he felt it tugging at his arm.

“What do you want…?” He’d told himself he’d just ignore whatever he saw. He’d said he wouldn’t pay any attention to it. But this figure was persistent. Maybe she was really there? She seemed solid enough. But it didn’t make sense. “… Are you a doctor?” Maybe that was it. Maybe he had actually, _somehow_ , survived. Maybe the past days was just his half-awake mind processing his surroundings. Maybe he was in a coma? Where was he then, a hospital? He had to have gotten some form of brain trauma in that case.

The woman didn’t answer him, but she stared intently. She looked frail, definitely not strong enough to force him to move anywhere. Shane could have stayed where he was without problem. But he didn’t have the energy to protest. He got to his feet sluggishly and let her pull him along, following in a haze. She led him down a hallway, through a big open room. He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings as they passed in and out of rooms. They were just a black void to him. It was all dark. They’d gone up a flight of stairs, and he could scarcely make out the walls. But nothing had any detail. It was just a vaguely textured mess of featureless walls and floors in his peripheral vision. It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

At least, not until the woman pushed open another door, and pointed to a figure in the middle of the room.

_Ryan._

Shane stopped dead in his tracks, that wasn’t possible, it just _wasn’t_. There was no way Ryan should be there. He’d seen him _die_. He held his body as it went cold. Ryan couldn’t be there. He couldn’t.

Ryan - _no, it’s not him_ \- turned and looked at him, and Shane felt his heart stop. He was sitting alone in the darkness under a broken lamp. Trembling and pale, but there was recognition in his wide eyes as he stared at Shane. Ryan looked so small and so scared and it was tearing Shane apart.

_**Ryan.** _

Shane moved towards him. Not even hesitating as he stepped over the broken glass. The woman stood forgotten in the doorway.

_It looked so much like him._

“S-Shane?” Ryan stammered. A look of complete disbelief on his face. Shane was sprinting now, desperate to get to Ryan. He needed to get to him. Needed to assure himself he was really there. How was that even possible? It couldn’t be real. Ryan stared at him in utter disbelief. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. How long had he been alone there? Shane felt his knees give out and he collapsed to a sitting position just an arm’s reach from Ryan.

“Shane…?” Ryan whimpered. “Are you…”

Shane felt relief wash over him. _He’d found him._

_He found Ryan._

_Ryan was still there._

Shane felt the darkness around him dispersing, taking shape, revealing the world for what it was. The empty void became windows and walls and things. The colour was returning to his world. He _felt_. Felt the cold breeze through the room, felt the pain in his legs, felt Ryan’s hands in his own. The emptiness at the centre of his being was filling again.

He was so relieved.

He couldn’t help it, he was crying.

That, was apparently the wrong thing to do. Because Ryan instantly became frantic. Desperately trying to calm Shane down, rambling, and repeating over and over how sorry he was. Shane laughed. He laughed like a madman and it felt so good. It was okay.

_It’s going to be okay._

He pulled Ryan close, wrapping his lanky frame around him like he vaguely recalled having done when he’d found the body. Holding him close in a tight hug. Cooing and hushing him. Ryan was crying too now. Shane could feel it soaking his sleeves as Ryan trembled. Fingers entwined with the brim of Shane’s shirt, desperately clutching the fabric like he was scared he’d sink trough the ground and disappear. His hair still smelled faintly of shampoo and it was so familiar.

“I thought I’d lost you.” Ryan managed weakly. Shane had thought that too, but the idea was too painful. He didn’t want to discuss it.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.” Shane replied instead, once he’d calmed down enough speak without breaking down again. “It’ll take more than one little fall to stand between me and making fun of you.” Ryan responded with a shaky laugh. It was faint, but sincere.

“Fuck you, I was right. Ghosts are real.” Shane felt a pang of doubt.

_What if you’re not, though? What if this really is just all in my mind?_

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to risk falling back into that rabbit hole. So, he ignored it in the only way he knew. Morbid humour.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just went insane from seeing your dead body, and now I’m actually in an asylum talking to a wall?” Ryan whined like a kicked puppy, and Shane felt his heart sink. He’d meant it as a joke. He didn’t want Ryan to have to think about that.

Real or not, he didn’t want to bring Ryan down. Not now when he’d finally gotten him back. Shane pulled away from the hug, just enough to look Ryan over. He was shaky, and he looked terrified. But he didn’t look hurt anymore. His neck looked okay, and he didn’t have that horrible head wound that had almost made Shane cry before. His hands remained planted firmly on Ryan’s shoulders.

“Ryan.” Shane spoke up, steadying his voice. There was an unaccustomed sincerity to it. “I’m kidding. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He promised with confidence he didn’t have. Ryan gave him a somber smile.

“I’m stuck with you, huh?”

“You betcha, baby.” That surprised a small laugh out of Ryan, and Shane smiled. The doubt was still there, nagging at the back of his mind. But seeing Ryan again, Shane decided he didn’t care one bit. He didn’t care if it was real or not. He didn’t care if he’d been wrong. They were back together. If that was just his mind losing steam, then he was okay with that.

It would be okay.

He was going to fix this. He was going to fix Ryan.

_It’ll be okay._


	5. Looming shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a long chapter this time! Sorry for the holdup, with spring break coming up I've had a lot of things to do school-wise. But here we go, chapter five!  
> Decided to have a pov shift in the middle of this one too, since people seemed to be pretty okay with that last time.

Shane hated seeing Ryan worked up. At least worked up like this. Seeing Ryan squirm was funny, but only when there wasn’t any real threat. No real danger or reason for the heavy atmosphere hanging over them. This wasn’t anything like the calm solemnness at old hospitals, or the giddy excitement at haunted tourist traps and bars. This place was suffocating.

“How long have you been here?” The question had been weighing him down. He had to ask. He’d really had no concept of time until now, after the fall there’d been nothing except fog and darkness. Now, he was starting to shake off the daze.

He could feel, and it _hurt_. Why did it still hurt? How was that fair.

“A week? Maybe two?” Ryan hummed thoughtfully and Shane winced.

“I’m sorry I left you alone. That had to be hard on you.” It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to leave Ryan alone. He was supposed to have been there for him. _Why did it still hurt?_

“You too.” It had been. Being all alone, not even sure what was real had been horrible. He wanted Ryan to understand. Wanted to scream. Wanted to cry, explain, touch. He was dead. The pain was supposed to be over, wasn’t that the whole idea? Wasn’t that what everyone said when somebody died? _'He’s at peace.' 'He’s not in pain anymore.'_

_Bullshit. Everything about this is complete horseshit. I’m-_

“I’m fine.” He managed. “You’re the one who’s an emotional wreck.”

“Oh, so _you_ never get scared?” It was dripping with sarcasm, but it didn’t feel right. Nothing really felt right. Was this how everyone who died felt? Did all those victims of serial killers and horrible accidents have to go on with that for all eternity? The family from cabin 28. The Isdal woman. That guy from Vulture who got his guts unspooled. _How was that fair?_

He faked a smile. “I don’t get scared.”

_Liar._

He had a broken leg, and even that seemed unbearable for much longer. Others had gotten stabbed, shot, hung, burned alive, had their heads bashed in…

_Stop whining. You got off easy._

He looked at Ryan. Bright big eyes still staring back at him like he wasn’t quite sure Shane was real. He was doing so well. He’d picked himself up off the ground and pressed on for weeks alone. Well, nearly alone. He was being brave, didn’t just freeze up and crash like a broken computer. He was stronger than Shane gave him credit for.

“I’m proud of you. You know, for managing to hold on.” Ryan shrugged like it really was no big deal. Like Shane had just commented on the weather.

“I wanted to live.” Shane could have sworn he heard his heart crack. The flat tone of Ryan’s voice didn’t belong. Brave or not, he needed Shane. Needed someone to pick him up and lighten the mood. That was Shane’s job.

“I mean, I’m not doing that great anyways.” Ryan spoke up again, interrupting Shane’s train of thought. Shane looked at him quizzically, urging him to go on. Was he hurting too? Had some other being in the building been harassing him? Was-

“I _did_ scream at a mute woman for trying to comfort me.” Ryan stated frankly. The complete switch of emotions startled Shane into laughing, before quickly shutting himself up. He didn’t mean to laugh, but he’d been imagining much worse. The relief of tension felt good, and Ryan actually smirked at him. Had he been meaning to make Shane laugh? He’d needed that, admittedly. Maybe Ryan could read him better than he thought.

“Jesus, pushed any old ladies down the stairs too? Be nice. Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can be a dick to people.” Shane responded.

_In his defence, a lot of the ghosts we’ve been investigating have kinda been dicks._

“You’re taking that surprisingly well by the way. The whole, ‘we’re dead’ thing.” Ryan answered and Shane had a feeling where this was going. “I’d imagine you’d have a bit more of an issue with being so irrefutably wrong.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you. You were totally wrong.”

“Oh no, I think I’m passing on- I can’t hear you.” Shane teased, falling over from where he was sitting on the floor. Overdramatically reaching a hand towards the ceiling. “I can see the light!”

“Fuck you!” Ryan was laughing now. Genuinely laughing.

“God is speaking to me, what’s that? You’re saying ‘Ryan Bergara is full of shit’? Don’t I know it!” He let his hand fall again, but stayed put lying on his back on the floor. After a bit, Ryan did the same. A hush fell over the area, but the silence was comfortable. A roof window had been left open sometime years ago, and birds were nesting on a beam close to it. Shane pointed them out.

“Glad to know there’s _something_ alive in this building.” Ryan sounded drowsy. Like they were just going to sleep on location and leaving again tomorrow.

“Are you in pain?” Shane asked hesitantly.

“Just a little. My back hurts.” They fell quiet again. Shane had so many questions, but didn’t want to ruin the moment. He felt safe. Almost okay. Sad, but calm. “…Are you in pain?”

“My leg hurts.” Ryan looked nauseated at the mention.

“Yeah, it looked pretty bad. You’re limping. You know that?”

“I am?”

“Yup. You didn’t notice?”

“I was pretty out of it.” Shane admitted. He genuinely hadn’t even thought about that, but his legs still hurt, so he supposed it made sense. “Who was that lady by the way?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan answered thoughtfully before sitting up again. “I’ve asked, but she doesn’t talk to me. Or, every now and again I get a word or two, but mostly when I annoy her and she reprimands me without thinking first. She doesn’t like swearing.” He shrugged.

“I want to say she shouldn’t be such a stick in the mud, but I feel like I should maybe be a bit more respectful or whatever.” Shane responded nonchalantly, pushing himself up off the floor too, sitting cross legged next to Ryan.

“Because you know she’s real?” Ryan responded snidely, but Shane could tell there was no real heat to it. He was just playing around. Despite that, he responded honestly.

“Because she helped me find you.” He looked at Ryan with sincerity. He could have sworn he saw the faintest tint of red on Ryan’s cheeks before he awkwardly looked back at the floor like his shoes were suddenly extremely fascinating.

“Yeah, I… I’ll have to thank her for that.” Ryan croaked.

“I wonder where she went?” Shane mused loudly. Ryan responded by looking around the room.

“I think she mostly hangs around the first-floor breakroom. That is, when she’s not following me around like a helicopter-parent.” He answered.

“Admittedly, you need a babysitter.”

“Excuse me, who here _actually_ noticed the floorboards bending?”

“Touché.” Silence fell between them again, and Shane took a minute to just close his eyes and listen to the creaking of the building. It wasn’t muted anymore, he could focus again. “First floor breakroom… We never made it there.” He hummed.

“No, I guess not.”

“You must have had a lot of time to poke around this place by now, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. Though I can’t really ‘poke around’ since nothing I touch really moves. I’ve managed to figure out lights though.”

“Figured it out, my ass.” Shane answered teasingly, pointing to the broken bulb above them.

“Most of the time.” He bit his lip. “I like the first floor better. The height here makes me nervous. And, I can’t get off the grounds. The further I go from the door, the more it feels like something’s pulling me back towards the building. Like there’s a rubber band around my neck, and the further I try to go the harder it pulls me back.” He rubbed the back of his neck absently.

“So… Outside’s a no-go then.” He noted flatly. “Guess we’re not leaving that way.”

“Well, I can’t. Maybe you could?”

“Not without you. We’re a package deal, baby.” Shane responded, adding that last bit teasingly. He shoved Ryan’s arm lightly for good measure. “So, outside’s the only place that’s off limits?” Ryan thought for a second before responding.

“Well, it’s not really inaccessible but… The second-floor office. I still haven’t been there. It just feels… wrong. The whole room. I don’t even go near it. There’s just this… Oppressive, crushing feel to it. It might sound nuts, but I _swear_ I’ve heard things behind that door. Like, not even human.” Shane could see Ryan shuddering as he described it. It’d be less trouble to just leave it alone, but his curiosity was peaked. Shane stood up.

“The second-floor office?” He repeated, looking down the dark hallway.

“What are you-“ Ryan began before he connected the dots. “Oh hell no! Are you out of your mind!? You can’t go there!”

“Come on! Aren’t you curious?”

“About that place!? Not even a little! Dude we _died_ there!”

“Yeah, so what more could happen?” Shane replied matter-of-factly. They didn’t have much more to lose, he figured. But Ryan was frantic.

“I don’t know, a demon fucking eats my soul!? I’m pretty sure I’m nothing but a soul right now!”

_Fair point, but…_

“I’m not going to say ‘demons don’t exist’, because at this point I really don’t know. But If we look at it like this; why would there be a demon in an old factory?”

“Why would there be a demon anywhere!?” Ryan hissed. “Look, you can go explore it all you like, but I’m. Not. Coming!” He stood up, arms crossed and looking at Shane like he was trying to stare him down from eight feet below. Maybe he had a point, maybe it _was_ better to be cautious. But whether intentionally or not Ryan had turned this into a competition, and Shane wasn’t backing down.

“Cool.” He simply replied, before turning heel and beginning to walk down the corridor without another glance.

“Shane-!”

_Three, two…_

“I swear to god If you don’t come back here right now I’m gonna-!” Ryan sputtered in audible frustration.

_One._

Shane heard light feet hitting the floor, louder and louder before Ryan was at his side, practically fuming. He smirked to himself. There was no way Ryan was going to be left alone in a haunted factory and he knew it.

“I hate you, you know that?” Ryan grumbled between gritted teeth.

“Better get used to it.” Shane replied.

The walk back to the office was mostly silent, and while Shane didn’t want to acknowledge it, he did start to feel something weighing at his chest as they approached.

_Just bad memories. It’s nothing there._

He listened intently, feeling on edge. Ryan’s footsteps fell faintly against the wood. Barely audible, but consistent and rhythmic. Shane wondered how they were even making sound, since there really wasn’t any weight to support. His own footsteps felt clumsier. Almost shambling. He blamed it on Ryan having had more time to adapt, but it was just as likely because his own legs were broken in ways he didn’t even want to imagine.

_Great, now that’s hurting again._

He nearly tripped over his own feet as he remembered the impossibility of them actually moving. The more he acknowledged the injury, the harder it was to work around it. To convince himself that he didn’t have a body, so it didn’t matter. He felt Ryan grab his arm.

“Huh?” He looked at Ryan confused.

“You look like you’re in pain. Seriously.” Ryan pressed the side of his body up against him. “Just, let me support you a bit. You look like you’re about ninety years old and forgot your wheelchair.” His eyes were fixated on the opposite wall. Shane wanted to protest. Say he was fine. The pain was just in his mind, after all. He didn’t have a body. But a part of him told him to just shut up and accept the help for once.

_You need help._

_No, I don’t._

_Let him help._

He mentally berated himself for it, but still wound up leaning on Ryan’s much shorter shoulders.

_You need him too._

* * *

_This is a stupid idea._

Ryan had lost count of how many times he’d said that on the minute or two it had taken them to reach the grey double doors. But he still kept walking, like in a trance. The amount of shit Shane could pull him along for was mindboggling.

_Why do you keep going along with this sorta stuff, Ryan?_

He sighed. They were almost there anyways, it was too late to back out. If Shane kept insisting they’d check it out even though he could barely walk on his own, there was no way he’d change his mind in the last second. The worst part was that Ryan was effectively _encouraging_ Shane’s bs by helping him get there.

_How did I get roped into this?_

Maybe Shane really was the demon, mind controlling Ryan to just go along with it. Still, there was a fond exasperation to it. Sure, Shane annoyed him to no end. But he was glad to have him back.

Ryan looked at the doors, faintly lightheaded. It looked the same as when they’d been there last, only now it was covered in police tape. He felt off balance, but maybe that was just from supporting Shane. Still, he could definitely hear the noises from beyond the wall. Cold dripping over him. He was sure Shane heard it too, whether he’d admit it or not, because he’d noticeably tensed up.

It felt weird to be close enough to feel that. They’d done a lot of things together, but it really wasn’t the touchy type of friendship.

_It’s not that weird._

_I think you have bigger things to worry about._

He shook off the strange thought.

“Right.” Shane broke the silence with attempted casualty. Just the faintest hint of nervousness. “How do we get in?”

Ryan pushed Shane’s shoulders to signal he was going to step away and Shane fumbled to right himself again. Ryan walked up to the door, taking a gulp of air and steeling himself. After a bit of focus, he felt his feet lift a few centimetres off the floor. Leaning forwards slightly like he remembered having learned early on, he began moving forwards, passing trough the door like it wasn’t there. He heard Shane’s mildly alarmed voice get muffled by the door.

He hadn’t been in the office since the accident. He’d gone close, but never had the guts to actually enter. Shane brought out something in him, just a bit of extra bravery. He felt like he needed all the courage he could get right now.

The room was even darker than the outside, all the blinds were closed, but that didn’t seem to be the only reason. It was too dark. Unnaturally dark. It looked less like natural darkness and more like a black amorphous sludge dripping from the walls and ceilings. Shifting and twisting. The sounds Ryan hadn’t been able to make out earlier were clearer, like whispers and hissing, and a sound like thousands of bugs buzzing inside his skull. Ryan shivered.

“Ryan?” Shane asked from the other side. There was a knocking on the door. Ryan remembered he’d probably not had any time to figure out how to clip trough stuff yet. Had it been under any other circumstances, Ryan would have probably thought it was great, clearly being the one knowing more about the situation. But right now, he really just wanted Shane there with him, so he reluctantly turned his back to the darkness and phased his upper body through the door again.

Shane visibly recoiled but stayed on his feet.

“I…” He began, clearly taken aback. Ryan really didn’t feel like taking things slowly when he was the one standing with one foot in a demon hole, so without another word he grabbed Shane’s wrist and pulled him trough the door.

Shane flinched, looking like he’d half expected crash headfirst into the solid wall, but made it to the other side non the less. He looked up in confusion.

“Okay, that’s fucking weird.” He stated.

“Yeah I _really_ don’t like this room.” Ryan replied. There was a reason he’d never gone in there before after all. His eyes wandered to the gaping hole in the floor. There was yellow police tape around it, but it looked strangely desaturated. “You think this is what it actually looked like when we were here the last time? But we couldn’t see it since… You know…” The sounds that came out of his mouth didn’t sound natural. They felt distorted, silenced.

The idea that they’d been walking around in this room without a clue, telling jokes, made him squirm. Maybe if they hadn’t done that, they’d still been okay. Maybe if they hadn’t come here, it would have been okay. The guilt from before was resurfacing, weighing Ryan down again. Echoes of ‘It’s your fault.’ The doubt and sadness amplified by the crushing darkness. The room was draining what little warmth and safety he’d managed to regain in finding Shane, leaving him with nothing but the buzzing and whispers. The darkness almost seemed to be morphing, taking shape. Becoming shadows of dead bodies and crying people.

Ryan felt like he was going to throw up again.

“Ryan… Are you okay?”

“I… I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Shane looked at him quizzically, and Ryan almost wished he was alone again.

“I’m the one who started this show.” He croaked. His throat felt like sandpaper. “I picked the location. I… I killed you.” He couldn’t look up at Shane. Something forced him to keep staring fixated at the hole in the floor.

_This was such a bad idea._

Shane stood silent, and for every second he didn’t speak Ryan felt closer and closer to crying.

“Hey, come on now…” He heard Shane’s low warm voice. Comforting and sympathetic, but it didn’t make things better. The guilt just grew even harsher.

_You don’t deserve his sympathy. He’s just trying to be nice._

_It’s still your fault._

“Ryan.” Shane spoke up again, moving himself in front of him, forcing Ryan to look at him. “That’s possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever suggested, and that’s saying something. It’s not your fault. It was just bad luck. Bad luck, and my big stupid mouth.” Ryan looked at him. He was sure he looked like an absolute mess, and Shane actually did recoil a bit as he looked up.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan managed to get out.

“It’s nothing just… Your wound is back.” Shane admitted, looking very uncomfortable. That was weird, why was his form changing? His body wasn’t real, maybe that was why it could morph and change. His own mind controlled how it looked, took the form that was most familiar. Maybe when he was feeling bad, his body changed to reflect it? That made sense. The woman hadn’t been talking either, maybe that was from a feeling she couldn’t shake.

Ryan looked back up at Shane. He was swaying slightly, noticeably putting more weight on one leg. The limp had been there at a constant.

“Are you-“ Ryan began, intending to point it out. Before he felt something grab his shoulders from behind, and then his feet was no longer in contact with the floor. He was flung up into the air, an unknown force throwing him against the wall. With a startled shriek he reached out for Shane, before he slammed harshly into the brick wall. Pain shot through his back, hot and blindingly white.

“Ryan!” Shane yelled. Ryan managed to look up towards him. There was a blur of motion, the inky shadows swirling into a tall figure. A flash of white like a grin on it.

“Behind you!” Ryan screamed, trying to warn him. But his own scream was being drowned out by the static noise of the room. The whispers had grown into angry yelling and furious roars. The hissing had morphed into hollow laughs. The room was a cacophony of deafening screams and heavy mechanical thumping like a thousand machines.

There was a yelp of pain as Shane was thrown across the room as well.

_That fucker hurt him!_

Ryan snapped his attention back to the figure, sharp shadowy tendrils was shooting out from the dark corners, flinging chairs and desks and debris around the room as effortlessly as if they were made out of paper. Still, the figure stood unmoving in front of the door. It was grinning at them, blocking the exit. Ryan glared at it and pushed himself back of the floor. His back hurt worse than it’d ever done since he woke up, but he was furious. Attacking him was one thing, he’d brought it upon himself. Attacking _Shane_ though?

He stood defiantly, glaring at it. Then, without really thinking, he made a break for it. He didn’t know what he could even do. This thing was tearing the room up like a tornado going trough it. Ryan had barely figured out how to turn on _lights_. But he was determined to at least try to fight back.

The shadow had noticed him, focusing all its attention on him.

_Shane, for the love of god get out._

A sharp plank nearly hit him from the side, the being had ripped it clean off the broken floor. Ryan managed to dodge it, but while still reeling from the near hit a desk-chair came crashing into him from the other side. Ryan lost his balance, stumbling while the entity kept throwing things his way. A heavy hit from a desk slid across the floor knocked him off his feet. His head was spinning, but even so he realized he’d gone over the edge of the balcony.

_No! Not again!_

He heard a scream he vaguely placed as Shane’s, snapping him back to reality.

_Focus, focus!_

Ryan reached for the closest thing and just barely managed to catch himself on the edge of the splintered wood. The sharp edges were digging into his arms as he fought to pull himself back up. Legs flailing uselessly. He wasn’t supposed to be able to feel the pain of the sharp wood. It didn’t make sense, but he was panicking, unable to think. He couldn’t think, couldn’t gather himself enough to float back up through the floor. It was too close to what had happened last time, and all he could think was; ‘I don’t want to die.’ He managed to look over the edge, his heart was in his mouth.

Shane was trying to get up, but his legs weren’t working at all anymore it seemed. He pushed himself off the floor, supporting himself on the wall. But his legs gave out and he fell again with a pained look on his face. Just stumbling and collapsing over and over. The entity had the nerve to laugh, and Ryan felt his blood boil.

“Hey, you freaky fuck! Piss off!” He shouted at it and it spun around towards him, as if he hadn’t noticed he’d not fallen off yet. Attracting its attention back to him when he was hanging helplessly off a ledge probably wasn’t a good idea, but Ryan was acting on instinct. He just needed to get it away from Shane.

The entity towered above him as it stood on the ledge. Its grin never wavered. Ryan tried to grab its barely distinguishable leg. At least if he was going to fall, maybe he could pull it down with him. But it sidestepped him. One of the black tendrils coiled up behind him, like a snake ready to strike.

“ _G͖̖͇̩͍͕e̸̻̱̯͚t͓̝͓̗ ǫ̲̖̠̥͈ͅu͈̹̻̬̹t̛̼̰͚̭̤.҉̰̰̬̪”_ It hissed through its unmoving smile.

Ryan stared at it. It was the same whispers he’d heard earlier, but this time he could make it out. It barely even sounded human. His sight was swimming, the creature passing in and out of focus. It hadn’t attacked yet, like it was toying with him. But after a few more seconds of silence, it seemed to grow bored. It struck, but stopped dead in it’s tracks just a centimetre or two from Ryan’s face.

Every blind on the windows simultaneously flew open with such force that a few of the windows that still had their glass shattered. Moonlight flooded the room, and the creature drew back. Howling in what sounded like pain. It fled to one of the corners that was still shrouded in darkness. Hissing and whining.

Looking up, Ryan saw the by now familiar sight of the mute lady. Standing in the middle of the room slightly above the floor. The hissing was overtaken by a sound like a thousand watches ticking in unison. The lady began to glow stronger and stronger in the same faintly translucent green she’d had before. In a pile of police equipment left mostly untouched by the struggle just a minute ago a machine started beeping uncontrollably.

_The police brought a Geiger counter?_

Ryan stared numbly as the shadows shrank. The entity gave one last screech of pure hatred, like a speaker bursting, before it dispersed in the light.

A hush fell over the area as the green glow dimmed.

“Ryan!” He felt a steady hand land on his as Shane spoke. He’d managed to get across the room, reaching for Ryan. With a bit of help, Ryan managed to pull himself back up onto the floor. Shane grabbed him in a tight hug, mumbling with irritation about how stupid it had been of Ryan to try to provoke that thing. But Ryan didn’t pick up on any of the specific words. He just needed the comforting deep voice. What it said didn’t matter.

“I told you that was a stupid fucking idea.” Ryan mumbled into Shane’s shoulder. He looked up at the woman. “Is it gone?”

She shook her head.

_Great._

“What was that even?” Shane asked. The lady looked at them like she wanted to speak, but simply responded in a single _*click*_. She pushed open the door, urging them to follow. So Ryan got up, and Shane stumbled to stand, but managed. Silence fell again, everyone either too exhausted or too preoccupied with their own thoughts to speak for a long while. But eventually, Ryan decided to voice what was on his mind.

“Do you think… Do you think that thing collapsed the floor?” Ryan asked solemnly. He wished he had some way to talk to the woman as well. She probably wasn’t that much stronger than them actually, but she’d been there for far longer. She’d had decades to learn. She knew more than she could say.

“I don’t know.” Shane replied silently. Then, with resolution he looked at Ryan. “But it needs to go.”


	6. Interlude

Ryan watched Shane closely as he talked, trying to make himself understood by the woman. He knew it wouldn’t do them much good, but he couldn’t really fault Shane for trying. After all, Ryan had been trying to get the woman to talk for days before he decided to give it up. It was frustrating, especially now that they had a goal. The fact that she wouldn’t speak, coupled with the stress of the whole situation, was running Ryan’s temper short.

“Okay, maybe if you… No, that won’t work…” Shane kept mumbling, more to himself then the lady it seemed. Gesticulating like he’d forgotten that the problem was the woman being unable to talk, not unable to hear. Ryan thought he looked like a frazzled, sleep deprived dad, trying to teach an uncooperative toddler to talk.

“No offense, but I don’t think that’ll do you much.” He pointed out. The woman shook her head solemnly. Ryan did feel bad for her, she was not only trapped as a spirit, but she couldn’t even talk. Couldn’t laugh, couldn’t sing, couldn’t cry… It had to be lonely. 

_I wonder if she likes having us here?_

Shane shook his head. “I’m _this_ close to figuring something out. Give me a minute.” Ryan had given him a minute. He’d given him several minutes. In fact, they’d been doing this for the better part of the night. Ever since last night when they’d encountered that _thing_ on the second floor, Shane had been determined to figure something out. 

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Ryan asked with exasperation.

”It’s my job. I was placed on this earth only to annoy you.” He responded flatly. Ryan sighed.

“I hate this. I feel so restless… I want to do something but…” He didn’t know how to put it. He wanted to help, wanted to be useful. He didn’t just want to wait around for someone else to fix things.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this.” Shane answered reassuringly.

“I feel so small…” Ryan murmured. It had slowly been creeping up on him. The relief of finding Shane had passed, leaving him feeling down again. He was starting to get morose. It wasn’t right to let the others piece things together alone, but he was running out of energy again. He couldn’t just wait for Shane to fix things, but even the smallest tasks seem monumental. Like it was a battle. Everything was an effort.

“You are small.” Shane answered nonchalantly. “You’re fucking tiny.” He clarified, looking at Ryan with a smirk. Ryan really couldn’t see what was so funny about things. He still felt empty. Having his best friend -a missing piece- returned helped. But no one person could take away all the trauma. It was like putting a plaster on a wound, it helped to stop the bleeding, but the wound was still there.

“Okay, Bigfoot.” He snapped back. Then added; “You seem to be keeping your mood up.”

“At this point I kinda have to.” He replied, turning back to staring at the wall thoughtfully.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ryan asked.

“Nothing.” Was the only reply, as Shane threw his hands up in exasperation. Ryan looked at him for another few seconds before turning and silently starting to walk the other way. He needed to get away for a bit. It was too much. Something hurt inside his chest. “… Sorry.” He heard Shane calling out from behind him.

“It’s okay.” He responded, not turning to look. “I just need a walk.” Shane stayed put. They knew to give each other space. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go wandering off on his own with the entity gunning for him, but he figured he should be fine as long as he stayed off the second floor. He just needed to try to clear his head.

_Maybe I could get outside a meter or two?_

Fresh air would be nice. The air inside the building was stale and smelled of mold. He didn’t _need_ air, but it still felt nice to try and breathe a bit. It felt unnatural not to.

So, Ryan started walking towards the exit to the old trash filled courtyard. _‘Courtyard’_. He’d only been there once, but remembered it looked more like an alley. 

_What were you expecting, a five-star hotel?_

_No, but couldn’t I at least have gotten to haunt my own apartment or something?_

A dusty old factory had to be one of the worst possible places to be stuck at, just shy off ‘haunted asylum’. He’d been in that factory just two weeks or so, and he was already bored to tears by it. Now he just wanted to go home.

_Haunting the office might have been kinda fun too._

He knew they had colleagues who believed in the paranormal. Maybe he could have actually interacted with someone there? Though to be fair, he didn’t have much to say anymore. Gloating over being right had lost its appeal after all he’d given up in doing so. Maybe he’d try to pass on a message to loved ones? He was struck with thoughts of his family. His mom, his dad, his brother… Were they okay? Early on he’d been holding out hope they’d show up. He’d so desperately wanted to see them again. But now, he wasn’t so sure anymore, because he knew he’d hurt them. He didn’t want to have to see them hurt. Was it selfish? They were hurt because of something stupid he’d done. He didn’t want to have to see them like that. He’d landed himself in this mess, and it was probably tearing them up.

_You hurt everyone you cared about._

_One way or another._

_Everyone._

He banished the thought of his parents’ reactions. It wasn’t fair to them. It wasn’t fair to put them through that. Ryan kept telling himself they’d work trough it. They’d get over it. They’d get over _him_. Loneliness hit him again as he kept trudging on trough the abandoned rooms and corridors. He was all alone, just him and his own shadow creeping over the walls. He didn’t want to be forgotten. He still wanted to matter to people.

_I wonder if they’ve taken down our videos?_

He hoped they hadn’t. He’d put so much work into those. He wanted that work to still have mattered to people. Almost automatically, he reached for his phone as if to check, but it wasn’t there. His pockets were empty. 

_How would that even have worked?_

He shook his head and continued walking, before an abrupt and icy cold realization dawned on him. _His shadow._ He didn’t have a body. Ryan _didn’t_ have a shadow. He spun around, turning to the wall. The shadow did the same, but unnatural and stiff. Like a person trying to imitate him, rather than a smoothly copied silhouette. He stared at it, transfixed, before carefully and deliberately raising a hand. He raised his left hand; the shadow did the same. 

_Left._

It wasn’t mirrored the way it was supposed to. Ryan felt a shiver going up his spine, and he knew what the thing pretending to be his shadow was. The entity wasn’t as startling as before, more so unnerving this time. Eerie and unnatural. Ryan considered bolting for the room he’d left Shane in, but something on an instinctual level told him that if he ran he might cause it to pounce. Instead, he steadied himself and glared at it in an attempt at looking confident. He was treating the entity like a wild animal, unpredictable and ready to lash out the second he showed any weakness.

For a minute, nothing happened. Ryan almost started to think he’d just been getting himself worked up over nothing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he’d always had that shadow, and just not noticed it until the second-floor entity started to get him paranoid. The room felt tight, oppressive. The high ceiling was looming even darker than before. 

But then, slowly, shadows started pouring in from every crack in the walls. Thick and sticky like black syrup. Dripping from the ceiling and pooling in the corners. 

With a sound almost like a hissing sigh the shadow silhouette detached itself from the two-dimensional surface and stepped into the room. Noises like bone cracking and snapping came from somewhere within it. Tar-like shadows sticking to its feet and coming off in dripping strings as it walked. The glowing white grin appeared again in the middle of its indistinguishable face, like an eye opening from out of the swirling darkness.

Grinning at Ryan, the shadow tipped its head to the side almost like a greeting. But it didn’t come to rest at a tilt, instead it’s head almost seemed to hang limply resting on it’s shoulder, bent at an unnatural angle. Like it’s skull was only hanging by the skin and tendons.

“H̶̲̠̣̳e̶̶̬͉̻l͓̼̖͎͈̠̭̰̞͠l͓͎͚̼̘͠͝o̟͈͉͙͙͉̱.̯͎̺̱̗͞ ͚͓̫͎̙͙̠̳͡I̗͚̖̙ ͝҉̞͔̩d̷̺̥̦͙̗͕͝͡o̩̹͇n̷͉̼̝’͔̮̥͙̙̱̠̣t̶̴͍̠͢ͅ ̶͕͔͖͕͝b͖̪͓e̵͙̥͇͕̩l̡̘͓͍̥̯̙̟ͅi͏̛̯̤̬̗̮e̴̛͖̻̩̮͙̣v̟̱͚͉̮͇̯̳͖e̜̺̫̲̥̥͘ͅ ̢͎̰̱w̨̼̞͎̜̞̹e͏͎̜’̵̭̫͙͔̭͔̣v҉̟͕̩̼͘͝e̢͎̻̱ ̸͎͔̬̰̳͈͠b͈̝̺̰̪͕͔ę̰̤̼͙͔̜̩ͅe̷̤̠n̩̫̫̠̮̫͙ͅ ̷̧̩̣͍p͇͉͔̘̥͖͖̦͜͞r͓͎̙̩̦͎͖͝o̱̝͇͉͇p҉͙̤͎͉e҉̦̟̳̦̬̗̜r̵̺͕̪̲̘͉͠l͙̳͚͖y̠̯͞ ̩̲i̬̥̬̙ͅn͕͇͔̬͈͈̞̳ṭ̵̲͔̟̤͇͢r͡҉̮̟̫̞͠o̩͓͔̗͉d̙̺͉̠͖͘͝u̵̫̬̣̰͢c̗͘͞e҉̱̙͖̫͙͈̱̣͢d̕͏͓̻̻̳̰̣.” It purred softly. The sounds felt like they were coming from inside Ryan’s own skull, echoing amongst his own thoughts. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, but stood his ground. 

“Stop that.” He tried to sound threatening, but it came out as a stammer. “Who are you?”

“J҉̞͇̗̗̪̺u̡͍̺̯̮̺̟s̤̠̞͘ͅţ̸̜͔̗̺̣̤ ̵̡̣̭̙͘a͝͏̞͚̳̱n҉͚̖̳̞o̟̲ͅt̷̡̛̪̩̹̩̳͍ḩ̱̣̟̟̪͓̳͔͖̕͢e̢̪̩̘͚͔̗͜͝r̨̞͔͈̖͕̙ ̡͏̘̬͓͎̞̙s̳̹̼̼̻̮̮͕o̵̡̰ư̸͔̺̬͢l͏͍̮̥̖̬͉͞ͅ ̜̼̺̳̳͘t̝͍͍̲̤͜ṟ̛͇̠̕͡ą̨̻͔̗͈͖͎̫͟p̯̙̼p̛̠̥̘̦̘̕̕e̷͍͕̖̬͙̖͜͜d͎̹͈.̡̪̼̠̺̻̲̻̝͟”

“Name.” Ryan demanded, backing slightly.

“Ņ̼̻o̶̝̗͓̜͇̼̹ṉ̩e͙̻͝ ̧̥͎̗͟o̵̢͖̞̠͝f̛̟̱ͅ ̕҉̜̲̹̻̘̜̥y̢̹̤̘̘͚̤͎̭̘̕o͓͉̙u̧̼̠͓̟̙͜r̡͖̰̯̖͍̯͍̞͡ ̯̝̮͎̳͖b͇̜͈̫̘u̡͏̜͓̯̱͍̥s̵͏̠̜̻̤̻͜ͅi͕̻͕̭n͓̜̲͚͙͚͠e͍̲͔͈͈̟̺͝s̪͚̟̞̲͎̘̠͢͡s͚̰̱̫̟̮̪͇.̶̩̜͘” The answer thundered from inside his own head.

“Cut the crap Hannibal.” He answered sharply, trying to mimic something Shane might say in the situation. The callousness didn’t fit Ryan, but Shane always seemed much more confident when they faced something scary. It steadied him a little.

“I̯͓͓̯̮̥̣̯ͅm҉͈̳̣̱̻̺̭͙̯p͏̴̤̗̼͇͍ͅͅe҉̦̙̞̦̺̤r̴̶̮̺̝̖̹̺͉t̰͢i͎͎̹͙̖̟̭̱̠͘͢n͢͠͏͎͕͎̞ḙ̦̞̮͎̥̬͉͝n̖̩̕͡͡t̡̹̱̣ ̷̨͉̺̺̬̝̫͡b̫͖̯̻̗̲̻̞r̴͕͍̠̰̪̺̣̕ͅa̲̺͜t̷̼̬̲̩̜̭͓.” The entity took a step forward. “Y̵̠͕̦̬̮̪͕o͚̞̱͎̠͘͠ͅu͓̙̹̜̕̕ ̸̱̳̗̤̰̦͙͚p͓̻̝̞͇͚̬͍͟͜ȩ̷̠o̷̡̹̳͖p̳̫̟̠͢l̶̗̳̱͇͡e̗̳̩͈͘. It spat.

“You’re the one who got your ass kicked last time you pulled something.” Ryan answered. The entity glared at him in contempt. Almost disgust. 

_What did I ever do to you?_

“I’ve still got people being me. Unlike you. And _my_ friends have already showed _you_ up. I-”

“ ** _D҉̵̬͇̩o̷̭n̨̟̲̤̭'̧͍̘̙̗̗͜͡t̴̝̲̻͙̗_** _._ ” It yelled, loud enough that this time it actually hurt inside Ryan’s head. “Ḑ҉͎̥̪̻o̵̹͜n̸̝̱̩̹̟̠̦͚̤͡'̴̤̭̬̦t̵̨͈̱͕̜͇͙ ̩̟m̬e̵̹͕̭͘ͅn̠̗̺̬̩̫̮̼͟͞t̜̭̖͟͜i͔͜o̷̯̖͖n҉͚̤̩͍͕̕̕ͅ ̵̴̧͇͍͖t̡̗͎ḥ̷̫͎̻a̶̭̳̞̝̱̝͙͉t̢̬̰̳̖͜͢ ** _͏̥̩̖̹͈͈w̵̨̡͍̟̟̬̤e̷̻̣̩̦n͓͚̮̲̻͍̗̕c̪͎̬͟͢h͚_**.͉̳͙͢” The shadow’s smile fell for once, and it’s eyes became visible. Pure white pinpricks full of hate and distain. It began approaching again, looming like a stalking animal. Ryan backed, before losing his composure and sprinting. He had no respect for that thing, but he still recognised that he was outmatched. Black sludge-like shadows shot out for him, coiling around his neck and lifting him off the floor. He shouted at it, kicking wildly. The shadows were creeping in on him, blocking all routes of escape. He felt it encroaching on him, felt it like water in his lungs. Cold and suffocating, like he was unable to remember what warmth even felt like.

He didn’t have to breathe. He reminded himself. 

_You don’t need to breathe._

He grabbed at the shapeless shadows around his neck but couldn’t grasp them. They dissipated in his hands. He felt himself get yanked back into the centre of the room, before he was forced face to face with the entity.

“S̖͟h̫̫̤ę̱’̷͏̺̹͉̳̱̝̖s͔̮ ̧͇̪̰͕̝̫ͅa̡̮͎̼̩͈̘͉̙ ̴̹̩ _t̴̙̮̼͇̠͉r̹̹a͎͚̫͙̱͔į̙̣̣͍̘̥t̢̡̹̪͙̲̤o̶̲̩͖͕͓̳͢͡r҉͔̬̖̹_.̹͙͙̳̩̦̩̬͟ ̹̪͔͔̖̲͜S̞̳̬̭̪͟͡ͅḩ̪͓͔͙̺̻̲͢͡e̙̩̞ͅͅ ̛̖̩̬̹͡ͅs̸͏͔̭̮̹̘͉͕̙̹o̷̡̪̺͈͎̹̯l̗̝̰̘̜͉̘͕̕d̶͇̙͝ ̴̥̦̣̱̠͉͈h͖̼̺͢͜͜e̬̜͕̦̭̞̜͚r͕͚̯̲̪ ̮͙̱̭c̨̛҉̞͖̘͍͕͕̙o̭͉̭͜u̘̱̫̦̟͙̫̳̖͠n̷̡͓͍̖̻͍̲̤̜̕t̷̜̼̬͉͖̮̬r̢̳̙̱̮̜͞y̺̦̦͟ ̥̦̤͔͔͇͝o̶͎̟u̷̻͈̹̣t̯̳͙͘͝͠.҉̵̙͕̼͚͚̰̕ ̴͍͓̠̱S̤̯̠̱̳̱̣͠h̸͚͈ę͓̞̖̫̝̭̗͍͘͡’̶̢͍̮͈̮̻̗s̨͉̤̙͡͡ ̶͏͍̜̱̹̠͉͇a̠̠͕̗̱̬̙ ̷̧̯̟͍̞̲t̫̻̯̠̫r͏͙̯̱̩͉a̸̛̟̹̙̻i̦̯͎͇̖͉̻͡t̨͎͠o̸̦͚̯̯̱̺ŗ̫͔ ͏͖͍̕a̡͕̜̜͞n͔̗̲͖͢d̯̜̞̬̣̱͜ ҉͍͕ ** _y̮̭͠o̶̠̯̼̙͍̫̙̪u̶̳̬͔̼̯͠ͅ_** -̴̮̰̰͈ “ It began, louder and angrier than before.

“ _Fuck you!_ ” Ryan shot back defiantly. It almost looked stunned for a second, before it slammed him into the ground with a roar.

“ _Hey!_ ” Ryan heard the familiar voice from the corridor. _Shane’s voice_. He stood in the open door like he was ready to fight. “Let him go!”

The shadow looked between the two of them. For a second, Ryan thought it was going to attack Shane too. But it seemed to decide against it, before slinking away with a defeated growl. Shane ran up to Ryan, standing above him and glaring at the shrinking shadows. He seemed to turn his focus inward for a second, as if trying to remember something. Before he looked at the tail end of the disappearing shadows and yelled, stumbling over the words like he wasn’t quite familiar with them; “Verdammtes arschloch!” 

Holding the back of his neck, still slightly disorientated, Ryan looked up at him. “What?”

“If I remember correctly… Something along the lines of ‘fucking asshole’ in German.” Shane answered straight-faced, surprising a strained laugh out of Ryan.

“ _What?_ ” He repeated, feeling even more confused now. “Wait, I thought you were awful at German?” He asked, feeling dazed as the adrenaline faded.

Shane sat down once the last of the shadow had gone, letting his guard down enough to turn away from watching the corners like a hawk. “I studied it as a teenager, Ryan. Of course I learned the inappropriate phrases better than the useful ones.” He smirked. Ryan sighed at him. Of course he was going to yell profanities at what Ryan could only describe as a real, in-the-flesh, demon.

“Some knight is shining armour you are.” He muttered. “Okay, but why German?” Shane looked like he just remembered something, before beaming at Ryan.

“Jean!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“What.” Ryan shook his head tiredly. Had Shane finally lost it?

“Jean! That’s the lady!” He clarified, almost proudly. Like a child excitedly telling a parent about a good grade. Ryan looked at him.

“You got her talking?” He asked, baffled.

“Yes! Or, technically not-! Or-! She can make herself understood!” His mouth was running at an impressive rate, words just seeming to fall out before he finished thinking. “Her name is Jean, the shadow is Abbott, she’s been here since 192-!”

“Woah, woah, slow down!” Ryan urged. It was far too much information to just dump on him like that, especially as he was just coming down off the adrenaline high. “How did you talk to her?” Shane sat back, shaking his head.

“There was a book I remembered some guy in the 90’s had written after he had a stroke and was unable to talk or move, except an eyelid.” Shane began with the same enthusiasm he usually had when he got to talking about history.“ He'd have an assistant read him the alphabet, and he'd blink once they arrived at the right letter. Only, she clicked.” He explained, beaming proudly.

“That’s…” Ryan started slowly. It was a lot to unpack. First of all, more odd history trivia Shane had somehow memorised. But also, they had a name on the lady now. _Jean_. And she’d been dead for nearly a hundred years apparently. And… “Wait, Abbott?”

Ryan froze. He remembered the name. Remembered talking about him as they’d walked through the building the first time, filming and joking. Back before everything went wrong. Shane’s exited smile dropped, as if he suddenly realized something bad. His head fell.

”Yeah…” Shane responded, suddenly hesitant. “The old German manager-possibly-spy we kept making fun of before.” He chewed his lip, refusing to meet Ryan’s eyes. 

Ryan gave him a look. “I want to say ‘ _I told you not to._ ’ But…” Shane’s lanky frame seemed to sag a little, and Ryan felt bad. “ _But_ , I’m not going to.” He corrected.

“Sorry. It was a stupid thing to do.” Shane responded in a small voice. Ryan decided to steer the conversation off that topic. Whoever was to blame didn’t matter. He still felt like it was his fault.

“Anyways. It’s pretty cool you actually found something useful in that random fact.” Ryan pointed out instead, and Shane looked up again with a small smile.

“I guess.” He answered. 

The two fell into silence. Shane seemed strangely tired, and Ryan was deep in thought. If that thing had really been a human at some point, what did that mean for them? Could they end up like that with time? The entity was violent, aggressive. Ryan didn’t think either of them had that in them. But with so many years as the other entities had been stuck, maybe it made sense it would deteriorate the mind. 

Ryan looked at Shane. He himself had perhaps never been the most stable mentally, but he doubted he could be capable of something like that. Shane seemed more stable. Almost normal. He might be a bit of a madman, as Ryan was quick to point out whenever they’re investigations degraded into shouting matches with unseen forces. But Ryan trusted him. He was calm and level headed, but that didn’t make him unfeeling. He was watching out for Ryan. He cared. 

Yes, there was nothing to be worried about. They wouldn’t lose themselves. Ryan wouldn’t let this place break him.

He remembered the research he’d done before he came here. As far as he was concerned, Abbott had already been a cruel person even when alive. They wouldn’t end up like that. There was nothing to be worried about. He remembered the way the shadow had talked to him. The hate in it’s voice. Like Ryan wasn’t even human as far as it was concerned.

_It._

That was more accurate than calling it a ‘him’, because even with an identity to refer to it by, even with a face to connect it too, it wasn’t a person anymore. It was really just the shadow of a human being.

_It wasn’t like it was a very nice human to begin with anyways._

Ryan reminded himself of the old faded black and white images he’d found when researching. He could still vividly recall the stern, clean-shaven face. Eyes strangely small and brows furrowed. The fact that that had actually been a real person hadn’t quite hit him before. It hadn’t seemed real when it was just pictures and documents on the internet. It had just been a face in a photo, not a person. Not until he had something to relate it to. 

_‘She’s a traitor’_

What had it meant by that? Had it known the woman? Or, _Jean_ , Ryan supposed. It seemed strange to call her a normal name. It didn’t feel right. She still seemed so unreal to him. If the shadow had known her, what did that say about her? Could he really trust her then? But then again, it didn’t exactly seem like the shadow felt particularly fondly for her. It was too much to try and unpack all at once. To much information that Ryan didn’t know how to make heads or tails of. It was best to focus on what he knew, and that was him and Shane. Although, he still didn’t know how they were supposed to get out. 

“Hey… Shane?” Ryan asked carefully. There was a small murmur of an answer, like Shane was almost asleep. Ryan had half a mind to drop the question. He didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by voicing his concerns. But if he didn’t, he felt it just might burn trough his skull. “Why do you think we’re still here?” He heard a faint shuffling sound as Shane sat up straight again from where he’d been leaning tiredly against the wall. It took him a second to answer, as he seemed to weigh the possibilities.

“I donno. Maybe these things just take time. Maybe this just is the afterlife. Maybe there’s really nothing more to it?” He suggested quietly. It wasn’t the answer Ryan wanted.

“No, I’m pretty sure ghosts are supposed to move on eventually.” He answered defensively. He didn’t want this to just “be it”. There had to be more. Being stuck in a single building forever couldn’t be all that life led up to. It just couldn’t be.

“Okay, look at it this way then.” Shane offered. “If… If we’re to assume there’s any truth to your ghost stories, then people might be stuck because they weren’t buried properly. Right?” He suggested with the faintest hint of discomfort. “We… Died… In a pretty suspicious way. Maybe the investigation is still under way, so for now they’re keeping the… You know.” He finished without actually ending the sentence.

“The bodies.” Ryan finished in a toneless voice.

“Yeah. That.” Shane answered. “Maybe they’ve just been unable to do the whole ‘putting to rest’ thing yet.” Shane turned to Ryan with a smile that looked just a bit to strained. “I’ll betcha as soon as the bureaucracy is done with we’ll be out of here in a heartbeat.”

Ryan looked at him. They had no way of knowing that would really happen. They were both just as lost in this. There was no way for Shane to actually be sure about what he said. But somehow, Ryan couldn’t get himself to point it out. He convinced himself to just take Shane’s word for it. Trust that he knew what he was talking about. He wanted to be able to feel reassured by it. So he simply replied in a flat; “Okay.”

If it was true or not didn’t matter. It was out of his control. It would do nothing to dwell on it.

He heard footsteps in the building, somewhere far off. More solid than a spirit. Another person, leaving another candle. 

He had to trust in them. Hope that the people who were still alive knew what they were doing. He couldn’t do much else.

 _But._ He thought with resolve.

_There was something he could do about the shadow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, maybe not quite as much happening in this chapter. More story stuff and character development I wanted to work on. But got some bigger stuff planned for next chapter (even some which I've been hinting at here) so I hope nobody minds a bit of a breather chapter. ^^'  
> As always, thanks for reading!


	7. Rain

Rain smattered against the metal sheets of the roof, creating a loud yet almost sedative sound. Had he been at home, safe and sound, Ryan would have almost thought it was soothing. But he wasn’t at home. Ryan was sitting next to Shane in one of the far corners of the room, in the small space under the stairs where a pile off their old stuff had been left behind. They’d both agreed it was for the better if they stayed together until they could figure something out, but the closeness was new. 

It seemed to Ryan that Shane had gotten a lot, well, ‘cuddlier’ since the accident. Like he kept wanting to be in touch. It was comforting almost, the way he kept initiating contact, if not a little strange. Not uncomfortable necessarily, just strange. Ryan didn’t mind. There was nobody else around that he really felt comfortable with after all. Admittedly, he felt alone. Being close to Shane helped him keep himself grounded. The world didn’t feel as cold when he was nearby.

A crack of lightning flashed outside, illuminating the assembly floor. The light passing through his own body and landing on Shane’s unreadable face. Ryan tensed. He wasn’t scared of lightning per say, but the sudden cracks of sound echoing through the building felt too loud. Too close. After all the time he’d spent in the dark, the flashes of sudden light stung his eyes.

Another flash struck the ground close nearby, close enough Ryan almost felt the building shake. It reflected off the puddles forming inside the building from where the rain was leaking in through the corroded metal roof.

_They couldn’t even bother to patch that up?_

A steady hand landed on Ryan’s shoulder, cutting off the gloomy thoughts. He felt some of the tension melt away as he leaned back towards Shane. The wind tearing undisturbed through the building’s skeleton chilled him to the bone. Resting his head on his taller friend’s chest for warmth he could almost hear Shane’s soft rhythmic heartbeat. 

But there was something more. He almost felt like the storm was calling for him. Urging him closer. Like the rushing water was tugging faintly at him like a magnet. From where he sat sheltered from the storm that shook the windows and the rain that fell through the broken frames, he felt compelled to get up and walk towards the windows. Rationally, he didn’t want to leave the relatively dry spot under the stairs. Didn’t want to leave the warmth he felt from Shane’s closeness. But the pull was subconscious. It felt like gravity, but weaker and in another direction.

“Hey.” He nudged Shane’s arm. “I’m getting up.”

Shane mumbled an answer and Ryan pushed himself back onto his feet. He felt an involuntary shudder as the cold air blew through him, already missing the warmth. He decided to make it quick, he just wanted to get to the window for a bit. He needed to know what the tugging was. After all, usually he felt compelled to remain deep within the building. He hadn’t even been able to walk off the premises yet. Suddenly being urged in the other direction was strange enough that Ryan knew he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his mind unless he checked.

The closer he came to the empty window the colder he felt. The draft kept pulling at him. He perked up as the rain falling in from the broken window passed through his legs and smattered against the floor. He could almost feel it, and in a way, it was refreshing. The cold air of the night and the smell of rain.

Ryan was feeling light-headed.

* * *

 

Shane watched silently as Ryan walked up to the nearest window frame. Steps tired and face serious. He was doing better, Shane noted. But still not good.

Ryan put a hand on the wall, leaning slightly out the window and closing his eyes. Peaceful yet solemn face lit up by the soft moonlight. He looked back up at another flash of lighting. Shane knew him well enough to recognize the thoughtful face.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asked as he got up and walked over. “Seeing anything interesting out there?”

Ryan shook his head as Shane settled down beside him at the window. Crossing his arms against the frame and looking out the building. Far in the distance he could see the light of a small city trough the pouring rain. He waited for Ryan to talk, absent-minded surveying the surrounding rural area, counting the cars that passed. Imagining to himself where the drivers were heading. Which ones were coming home to a warm house and a happy family. Which ones still had work to do at ungodly-hour-of-night o’clock. Which ones were headed to the hospital. Which ones were just driving aimlessly working through their own problems…

Nobody was out in the middle of the night in a storm because they wanted too. Shane didn’t want to be either.

“Do you feel that?” Ryan asked.

“Would it kill you to specify for once?” Shane asked with exasperation and Ryan shot him a glare.

Shane made a mental note to avoid ‘death’ jokes.

“I feel like… I don’t know... Drawn to the outside?” Ryan tried to explain. 

“I wanna leave too, buddy.” Shane answered sullenly.

“Not just that. I feel like something is pulling at me.” Ryan continued, sounding like he was having trouble wording what he felt. Shane stayed quiet, waiting to see if Ryan would continue. When he didn’t, Shane started looking for something to answer with. He wanted a reason, there was a reason. 

There was always a reason.

_The supernatural is only supernatural until we figure out how it works._

“Maybe…” Shane began, still thinking as he thought. “You remember Viaduct tavern?” He asked, getting an idea.

“Of course I do.” Ryan responded. Then, wistfully: “That was a good one. You were funny when you were drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“You were totally wasted.” Ryan gave a tired laugh. “What about it?”

“You said something about ‘water conducting energy.’ Maybe that has something to do with it?” Shane suggested, looking back out into the rain. “That coursing water is pulling at you.” It was the closest thing to a rational answer he could think of.

_Makes as much sense as anything else in all of this._

Ryan looked back outside, considering. After a bit of a pause he moved his hand from the wall and tryingly put it out the window. Holding it as if to try and catch water in it. Shane looked at Ryan’s hand as, at first, nothing seemed to happen. The heavy droplets simply seemed to pass through like he was nothing but a hologram. Before he slowly began noticing that the drops seemed slightly thinner as they’d passed. A small part of the water was sticking to him, before becoming too heavy to hold itself together and dripping back down. 

Looking closely though, Shane noticed a discoloration to the water that became unstuck. It was just a little less see-through. The drops were very faintly growing in the dark as they fell. Looking back up, Shane saw Ryan staring transfixed at his hand. It looked like it was being very slowly dissolved. Like paint washing off and being flushed down a drain. Ryan didn’t look hurt by it, just unnerved. 

Without thinking Shane reached out and grabbed Ryan’s wrist, snatching his hand back in under the roof.

“Don’t do that.” He demanded. The thought of Ryan melting his own hand off out of curiosity, weather it had hurt or not, was seriously freaking him out. “What the hell, dude?”

Shane turned Ryan’s hand over, carefully examining it. If any of it had actually been washed away with the water, it didn’t show at least. That was a relief. Ryan lit up.

“I have a plan.” He said in a face that reminded Shane of the one he usually had when they were about to start a big investigation. High risk, high reward.

“A plan?” He asked sceptically. He didn’t want to discredit his friend, but the facts still stood that whenever Ryan had a ‘plan’ it usually only ended up with the two of them coming out of it worse for wear and looking like dumbasses. 

“Yes, I have a plan. To get rid of the shadow I mean.” Ryan continued.

“Okay?” Shane acknowledged hesitantly. “What do we need to do?”

“Let go of my hand and I’ll show you.” Ryan teased, and Shane could have sworn he felt his brain short circuiting before it started sputtering uselessly, and he fumbled to let go.

Ryan had the nerve to laugh.

“Jean!” He yelled, promptly turning the other way and bolting down the hallway. Calling out for the woman. Shane stayed stuck for a minute, his face feeling hot, and reflecting over how he surely had to look like a fucking weirdo. But it hadn’t seemed like Ryan particularly minded. “Shane, you coming?”

“Right.” He answered, shaking off the embarrassment and following Ryan. “What’s the plan, then?” He asked with attempted nonchalance. Ryan jumped as the woman silently leaned out an adjacent room.

“Please stop doing that.” Ryan hissed at her, startled. She grinned sheepishly before walking up to them and tilting her head faintly. “Do you know anything about water effecting ghosts?” She nodded, and Ryan lit up.

“It looks like the energy gets caught in it or something. Is that it?” Shane offered. She nodded again, almost proudly. Ryan gave them a look.

“What if we flood the building?” He asked.

“What?”

“We flood the building.” Ryan repeated and began pacing. “The water dripping in trough the roof isn’t enough to do anything, but if we can force the shadow outside…” 

“You think if the energy gets pulled thin enough, we might get rid of him?” Shane asked, trying to make sense of Ryan’s ramblings. That seemed to make sense, at least a bit. It looked like that was what had been happening with Ryan’s hand. 

Shane’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft tapping sound, like metal being struck lightly. He looked to see the woman pointing at the awkwardly placed plumping on the ceiling. Industrial water pipes and tanks placed haphazardly, wedged in between beams and lights. They were clearly a later addition to the old building, thrown in out of necessity with little thought or care when it became a factory. 

They looked breakable.

“Are you sure?” Shane asked. It seemed like a bit of a stretch. 

“Could you break those?” Ryan asked the woman, ignoring Shane’s protest. Another nod.

Lightning flashed and lit up his face, grinning with resolve. Shane thought he looked just a little less lost. More confident and less scared. Exited almost. So, Shane decided to shut up and just go along with it. He wanted Ryan to be okay.

“Caution to the wind, then.” He added with a shrug.

___________

Shane was holding his breath, despite knowing he didn’t have to breathe. He was listening carefully from where he’d hidden behind a large water drum. The idea was to push it over, they’d agreed. The lady would burst the pipes, she was the only one who’d been there for long enough to know how to. And Ryan had offered to lure the shadow out of the office in what was an unusual showcase of bravado. Shane still thought it would have been for the better if he’d done that. After all, he still barely knew how to move things, but was pretty good at annoying people. He didn’t like the idea of Ryan knowingly provoking that thing. It seemed to hate him even more than it disliked Shane though, so Ryan had insisted that it would be easier.

So now, there was nothing to do but wait. They didn’t have much time; the whole plan was relying on the storm still raging outside. If it passed, they’d have wasted their chance. The atmosphere was heavy and nervous. 

The floor was on a slight incline towards the wall with the big windows, yet another sign of the poor construction that should have tipped them off the first time they came to the building. But, mulling over that wouldn’t do them much good now. What was done was done.

This time the sorry state of the building only meant that, hopefully, the shadow would get pressed up towards the windows by the water rushing down the slight slope. With a little luck they could push him off the second floor.

 _Seems only fair._ He grimly thought to himself. 

Why was Ryan taking so long? A part of him wanted to get up and check on him. Make sure he was okay. It was his job to make sure Ryan was okay. He’d always been doing it before, and he’d promised himself he’d keep doing it. He’d said he’d fix things. He’d sworn he’d fix Ryan.

_But who’s going to fix you?_

He banished the thought. 

Where was Ryan? He was very close to getting up and calling the whole thing off. He wasn’t an easily scared person, but he was a cautious one. At least compared to Ryan who regularly went looking for ghosts, demons, and other things he thought were a danger to himself. Maybe it wasn’t so strange that they’d ended up the way they had. It was tempting fate. Shane wished for the thousandth time he’d just have shut up for once when they’d been instigating. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended up the way they had if he hadn’t been testing the ghosts. It wasn’t fair, at least not to Ryan.

Shane was the one who’d been provoking everything they encountered. The fact that Ryan had had to pay for it too made him sick. It had been his own stupid decision, he thought. Angrily cursing himself for having gotten them into this mess.

He had to go check on Ryan. He had to. He needed to make sure-

“Now!”

Shane snapped back to reality. He’d lost focus completely. It took him a second o register what was going on and remember what he was supposed to do. His thoughts were a jumbled mess as he struggled to turn.

There was a loud hissing sound from above, before a noise like a balloon popping. 

_Crap._

Shane didn’t have time to react before several litres of water was dumped over him in a second. He could hear more and more pipes bursting, knocking him down and pushing him towards the wall. It felt like gravity had suddenly began acting horizontally and he was falling. The water wasn’t that high, but he’d gotten caught in the stream somehow. He felt like the entire building was slanting, he was losing his balance and going down the slope. He desperately grabbed for the nearest thing, trying to keep himself from falling. He managed to grab a hold of one of the building’s support pillars and looked up.

The shadow had materialized in the middle of the room, screaming furiously before another wave came crashing down on it, throwing it across the room. Shane felt it’s claw like hands grab one of his legs as it passed, pulling at him. Trying to keep itself from being thrown out. With a pained gasp he instinctively let go, and then he was falling again. His leg throbbing in pain.

“Wait! Stop!” He heard Ryan yelling, lost in the chaos. There was sounds everywhere, the rain still smattering against the roof, the almost animalistic screaming and screeching of the shadow, the sound of the broken pipes, still spewing water at high speeds. Ryan’s voice was drowned out by it.

“Don’t!” Shane screamed back at him. They needed to get rid of the shadow. They were so close to succeeding. Shane refused to be the reason they failed. He wasn’t going to destroy their chances, even if it meant him fading away too. He hadn’t been paying attention, there was nobody else to blame.

He felt the back of his head slam against the window frame, it almost felt real enough to hurt. He involuntarily phased trough, swept down with the stream. The sounds immediately felt subdued as he left the building. Toned out by the soft sound of rain. He cold faintly hear the shadow still sputtering furiously, but it was quieter. The air outside was cold and crisp. It felt good in a way. It was easier to breathe out there, far above the ground in the moonlit night.

But then something caught him in mid-air, and the sounds returned. He looked up to see Ryan, leaning dangerously out the window, holding Shane’s hand as he dangled from the second-floor window. The rain falling trough him pulling at his body too. The faint light from his ghostly form was washing away.

“Ryan, let go.” Shane managed weakly, letting his face drop again. He didn’t want Ryan fading away too. Ryan had to get back to safety. He had to be safe. 

Shane felt himself getting weaker, feeling stretched out. Like he was losing pieces of himself, the energy that made up his body dispersing in wisps of light. Not painful, just… Suddenly not having as much weight. It felt surreal.

He could hear the shadow, still clinging onto the building. Desperately trying to claw it’s way back up the walls. It was using them as cover from the rain, trying to keep itself from being swept away.

“I’m not losing you!” Ryan snapped at him. “ _Not again!_ ”

Through the resignation, Shane dimly felt a new type of drops hit his numb face. It was softer than the rain, like it hadn’t fallen quite as far. like it hadn’t been blown at such a harsh angle.

It was warm.

He meekly lifted his head again, meeting Ryan’s desperate looking face illuminated by another flash of lightning. He was crying.

Shane didn’t want that. He didn’t want to see Ryan hurt. New resolve grew in him. He had to try. Had to try for Ryan’s sake. He couldn’t leave him behind again. He couldn’t leave him all alone. He couldn’t just fade away. His strength was weaning, but even so he forced himself to push his other arm up towards the window. Trying to pull himself back up with what little energy he had left. 

He had to try.

The shadow wasn’t quite as weakened it seemed. Holding on to any nook and cranny in the cracked brick wall, it was making it’s way back up towards the second floor. Scaling the building surprisingly well. More like a gigantic spider crawling up a wall than any semblance of human movement.

Ryan had spotted it too. Scanning the room inside the wall he began to reach for something in a corner Shane remembered they’d put down their equipment and sleeping bags in. One hand still holding Shane’s arm, trying to keep him from falling. But whatever he was trying to get to was apparently too far away. Casting another panicked glance at the shadow, now far too close to another open window, it seemed like Ryan was stuck. One foot planted firmly on the window frame to try and keep himself anchored, but still unable to reach anything useful without letting go of Shane.

For a second, Shane thought that was it. They failed. Before a green glow lit up in the corner Ryan had been trying to reach, and something was thrown his way. Catching it with his free hand, Ryan turned back outside. Shane almost felt like he wanted to laugh when he saw what it was.

“The fucking _holy water_?” He exclaimed.

“Shut up!” Ryan managed to get the top of the bottle off before promptly dumping it over the shadow. It seemed to lose it’s footing, one hand instantly flying off the frame and going to the entity’s face as it screeched in pain, face almost seeming to be sizzling. But it still stubbornly hung on.

Hung on, that is, until the lady showed up in the other window with a triumphant expression. Taking a second to look at it, she then raised a leg and brought down her high-heels on it’s face. Stomping it hard enough that it finally, _finally_ , fell of the building’s side.

Landing on the pavement, face upturned and white pinprick eyes slowly fading into the dark, it seemed to melt into the ground. Whining and gasping until it was nothing but a dark bubbling puddle. Slowly washing away.

Still staring at the back stain on the ground, Shane felt himself start getting pulled back up. No longer having the shadow to worry about, Ryan didn’t seem to have much problem pulling him to safety. For as small as he was, Shane was thankful he had been the stronger one out of them.

They both wound up collapsing onto the floor once back inside the building, exhausted but still hyped up on adrenaline. The pipes had stopped leaking it seemed, and the woman sat down with them. Shane felt much lighter, no longer pulled towards the outside. They’d made it. It was a close call, but they’d made it. Ryan was breathing heavily.

“We did it…” He wheezed. “It’s gone…” For a bit, the three of them just stared at each other in stunned silence. It had actually worked, all of them had come out of it okay.

_We made it._

Smiling, Shane began laughing in relief.

“Fuck you Abbott!” He yelled. Just like when they were investigating. The woman smiled, and Ryan started to laugh as well, gleefully joining in.

“Yeah, fuck you, you demon prick!” The relief was tangible. The woman let out a small snicker, immediately flinching and stopping herself. Expecting pain. But she didn’t look hurt, Shane noted. 

They quieted down, looking at her as she slowly lowered her hands from her mouth.

“H… Hello?” She tested her voice shakily. It didn’t sound as raspy as before when she’d spoken accidentally. She didn’t sound hurt. It was a light and clear voice, with the faintest trace of a German accent. She brought her hands up again in shock. “Oh my god…” Her voice wavered but didn’t break. There were tears welling up in her eyes.

“Hey, you talk.” Ryan pointed out in astonishment. Shane smiled at them.

“I… I…” She seemed at a loss, but a smile crept onto her face. “I feel okay.” It was such a simple phrase, but it was spoken so genuinely.

The faint, sickly green light she usually emanated was dying down. The lumps around her neck and the hollowness of her eyes disappearing.

“…It doesn’t hurt.” She uttered in amazement, looking up at the two of them. “Thank you.” She said with a tearful smile. Ryan put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned hugging them tight. Surprised, Ryan looked at Shane over her shoulders. Shane gave a small laugh, draping a hand over him as well. Closing his eyes for a bit. The sounds of the rain against the roof was fading, falling softer than before, until finally stopping altogether.

As he opened his eyes again, the lady was gone. She wasn’t in pain anymore. She was at peace.

He looked at Ryan, who’d almost seemed to have fallen asleep. Maybe it wasn’t their turn to move on yet, but they still had each other. That would make it all worthwhile in the end. 

One good night would in no way fix things. But salvaging his friend was a war worth waging. Even if it meant putting his own distress on hold. Shane was going to hold out. Ryan needed needed him too. 

Quietly, he promised himself.

”If you can't smile, I'll smile for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bye bye ghost lady, you were fun to write for but I have more stuff I want to do.  
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always appreciated :)


	8. I'm not okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, heads up! I’ve gone back to a bit more of the angst from earlier chapters in this, and therefore there’s going to be a bit more violence in this chapter. Nothing too graphic (at least according to me) but someone will be having flashbacks to his death and it is described in more detail this time.  
> Whooo boy, this chapter took me a long while to write, and is much longer than most earlier chapters (nearly twice as long!). There was a lot of emotion stuff I had to try to get right in this chapter, and a lot of lose strings hinted at in earlier chapters that I had to tie up, but after a long while I think I managed to get most of what I wanted said out here.  
> I spent a lot of time on this chapter, so I’d really appreciate some feedback!

The creaking of a heavy door woke Shane from the half-sleep he’d managed to fall into after the chaos of the night before. After nearly dissolving into god knows what and finally succeeding to fight back against the darker entities of the building he’d practically run himself into the ground. He’d been exhausted, but he’d pulled himself together again. The ordeal had been worth it, the building didn’t feel so dark and oppressive anymore. It was just him and Ryan left, it was quiet without the others. But the calm was good. If a bit solemn. Besides, they’d seen the lady pass over too. That gave Shane a little bit of hope in the darkness. It meant that moving on was possible. He just had to figure out how.

It was early morning, the sun just starting to rise over the mist and puddles outside. The only remnants of the battlefield just a night earlier. Birds Shane hadn’t been able to hear earlier were chirping in the rafters. Rats Scuttering between warrens in the walls. Animals that hadn’t dared to venture out under the crushing shadow were starting to peak up in every corner. Shane could have sworn a few of them had eyed him cautiously. Maybe they sensed him. Ryan said animals had a better sense for the supernatural.

Ryan said a lot of things.

Shane looked at him, still resting silently. It wasn’t really sleep, they were still half conscious. Sleep was something for living people. But at least they could still have a bit of rest. A little calm. Shane wondered if Ryan still had nightmares. He remembered the strange dreams Ryan would sometimes share, nightmares about demons and death. A surprising number of them involving Shane too, apparently. He’d laugh it off, joke about Ryan being paranoid. But in a way it was touching. He had nightmares about his friends being hurt, he _cared_. Shane had never questioned that of course, but it was still endearing. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

The sound of voices approached from the entrance hall of the building. Shane debated with himself whether it was worth getting up, but decided to go see if it was someone he recognised.

Doing nothing would get them nowhere. The lady had been stuck for nearly a hundred years before she’d passed on. Shane had no intentions of staying that long.

The people weren’t far off. They were moving slowly, easy to catch up with.

“-think we should.”

“-n’t tell anyone.” 

He heard the voices carried by the cold morning wind, but they were quiet. Almost whispered. It was a woman’s voice, a low drawl, and one man’s clearer voice. Shane couldn’t quite place the voices but knew he’d heard them before. He turned the corner and approached soundlessly. The man tensed up and the woman looked at him.

“Did you hear something?” She asked, turning her head and suspiciously looking the room over. Her gaze passed Shane unbroken, but when he saw her face it clicked. The small watery eyes, the thin greying hair, the round face and pointed glasses. He recognized the woman as one of the building’s owners. Her stance was hunched, and her eyes had dark bags under them. A far cry from the giddy woman with heavy makeup who’d met them when they first entered the building. She obviously wasn’t sleeping well. Shane passed between them to better look at the man he assumed had to be the husband who owned the building with her. She’d mentioned him, but he hadn’t greeted them. Something about being ‘ _camera shy’_.

“It’s nothing.” He replied, visibly shivering. Shane wondered if his presence had something to do with that. Maybe it was unnerving him. “Look at all this water damage…” The man muttered, tracing the cracked lines of a wooden support pillar with his hand.

“This is a nightmare.” The woman agreed, turning back from surveying the room. Satisfied that there was nothing there as far as she could see. “How are we going to afford for this with the court pay-out?” She shook her head despondently. For a second, Shane wondered if he was supposed to feel a little bad for them too, having to deal with the fallout of all this tragedy. It was clearly affecting them badly too. The guy seemed like a nervous wreck.

Shane wondered if he could find some way to talk to them. Maybe they could help. Maybe they would listen. They owned a ‘haunted building’, so at least they probably believed in those sorts of things. They were bound to take it seriously if he managed to speak to them. They-

“I told you it was a bad idea letting those people up on the second floor.”

_What?_

Shane turned back to the man who was now speaking nervously.

_What do you mean… ‘I told you’?_

“How were we supposed to know the _one_ night there’s _actually_ people up there something bad happens?” The woman snapped back at him.

“The inspectors had warned us. We should have just put up the ‘condemned’ sign…” Shane froze, stuck in place even as the couple began walking again. He felt his blood run thin. They kept speaking from behind him, unknowing and unbothered by Shane’s world being turned on its head.

_You knew…?_

“How many times do I have to tell you; it was a _calculated_ risk. We needed the publicity and you know that. It wouldn’t have been interesting if it’d just been the first floor. You’re a part of this too.” The woman retorted. “Now will you _please_ change the god damn subject?” Shane flinched as she spit the words, prompting him to turn around and face them again. 

There was no emotion on her face. No guilt, no worry, no sadness. Any sympathy he’d harboured towards them immediately went up in smoke. His head spun as he struggled to stay on his feet. Dark spots began clouding his eyesight.

_‘Calculated risk’? ‘Publicity’? Was that all this was to you?_

It made sense. They’d seen it when they first came there, the signs of nobody having been up on the second floor for years. He had noticed it, but didn’t think much of it. He’d pretended not to notice. He’d pretended not to notice a lot of things for these people. What had he gotten in return? A decrepit prison and an early death. One that had been anything but as unforeseen and unpreventable as it had seemed. He clenched his teeth, staring daggers at the people. Fists closed so tightly he felt his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

_You used us._

The man looked around again, clearly bothered. “… We need to tear the building down…”

“I heard it the first time the judge said it. _Thanks_.” That was the last words the woman spoke before the pair vanished behind another pair of dingy doors. Leaving Shane behind, standing in the hallway seething in anger.

He felt his voice painfully catch in his throat. Screaming at them would do nothing. They wouldn’t hear, he’d just bother Ryan. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Even trough the dark thoughts he had enough control to know that. But _god_ , he was angry. He looked after where they were headed. It seemed like the exit.

He didn’t want them anywhere near him, but he felt torn. Something dark inside wanted him to follow. To not let them get away with what they had done to him. What they’d done to his friends, what they’d done to his family, what they’d done to _Ryan_. It wanted them to pay. It wanted them hurt. 

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. It was a reflex, air wouldn’t help, but thinking like that was bad. It was feeding into the feelings to much. He couldn’t afford to do that. Couldn’t afford to humour the thoughts. He shut his eyes, counting slowly until he heard the door slam and lock signifying the owners had left again. That was better. Better they went where he couldn’t reach them. Better they left before he felt tempted to go trough with the ideas that had forced themselves past his defences. Ideas of; ‘how did Abbott collapse the floor?’ ‘How much force did it take to kill me?’ 

_‘Am I strong enough to do that?’_

He wanted to collect himself again, but his mind refused. Thoughts still raced, body still tensed. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice kept shouting at him, berating him for not having gone trough with it. For letting them off.

It kept talking and he kept ignoring it. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t going to let time and anger turn him into one.

So, he bottled the feelings up and put them on a shelf in his mind. Right next to the bottles of fear from the incident, the jars of doubt and confusion, and the cracked container of nagging guilt. Just beginning to leak out.

Trough the haze a voice broke the darkness.

“Hey, Shane?” He turned around facing Ryan who was just turning the corner. He’d missed the owners. That was probably for the better, he didn’t need to know. Better to keep thinking it had all been a fluke. “You’re usually not up at daytime. You okay?”

Shane forced a smile. He’d gotten good at that.

“Yeah, I’m good. ‘Morning, sleepyhead.” He put his hands in his pockets, hiding his fists that refused to unfurl, and walked over. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” He shrugged. “Just wondered where you’d gone of to. You know, would kinda suck if you’d moved on without me… I mean, I’d be happy for you if you got out just- I’d like to leave with you. I mean- I… I wouldn’t blame you if you left somehow it’s just- you know…”He muttered, going off on a tangent.

“Come on, I’d never leave you behind. I’ll have your back. Always will, always did.” Shane reassured. It was the one thing he was certain of. “Hand on the heart.” He assured with an overblown gesture. He was rewarded with a small chuckle.

“Okay, well-“ Ryan began before stopping at some distant noise, looking around. “Did you hear that? Did the door open?” He asked like somehow Shane had all the answers. It happened so often before on investigations. He never expected an answer, but Ryan liked voicing his thoughts. It almost made Shane feel bad, like he was supposed to know. He wanted to go poke around until he could get an answer for Ryan. Nobody really expected that of him, he knew that. But he couldn’t help but feel like it was his job. 

_I swear if that’s the owners coming back-_

“Let’s go check it out.” Ryan suggested and began walking back the way he came, leaving Shane to trail after.

As they approached the front door, Shane could hear hushed voices again. He thought of turning back. He didn’t want to risk snapping at the owners. Especially not in front of Ryan. He considered trying to convince Ryan it was nothing interesting, he considered getting away alone with some lame excuse. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. So, he silently followed. Trailing faithfully behind like always.

Turning the corner, he got a good look at the people and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It wasn’t them.

In the faint early morning light he could make out the two figures. They were noticeably younger than anyone he’d previously seen in the building, they couldn’t be older than teens. The boy was trailing after the girl, stepping carefully around the water on the ground and talking in a hushed voice on a cell phone. Shane recoiled as the girl shone a flashlight in his eyes. They were both dressed in dark clothes and kept looking around themselves like a hyperactive security camera. They didn’t look like they were supposed to be there.

“Who’s that?” Ryan asked.

“I donno.” Shane shrugged. They seemed harmless enough, if suspicious. They were just some kids. Although… “I don’t think they should be here.” Ryan shook his head.

“Breaking and entering?”

“My moneys on that.” He agreed. “Why though?” 

Ryan walked out from behind cover, approaching the pair.

“Hello?” He asked tryingly. 

There was no answer from the two, or any indication they’d heard anything at all really. Shane decided to hang back. A bit of distance was probably for the best, he had too much to process. Had to try to figure out how to feel about this. Had to decide if it was something worth having to bury in his mind. The boy seemed to cancel the call, switching to another program in his phone and holding it up in front of him like he was filming. The girl was the first to speak.

“Is it on?” The boy nodded, and the girl looked at the phone he’d turned to her. “Okay, so here we are. See? I told you we’d really do it. No- I- okay look, asshole we’re really in the place! Josh can you, like, film the room or something to shut her up?” The boy did as he was told and obediently panned his phone’s camera over the room.

“Are they filming?” Shane muttered to Ryan, moving over to the group. They didn’t seem aware of their presence.

“It looks like he’s on some form of… Livestream?” Ryan was looking over the teen’s shoulder at his phone. “H-Hey, kid?” He tried again with no success as Shane glared at them. They had no right to be there. It wasn’t safe, and he had a sneaking suspicion what they had come for.

_Honestly, can’t people have some respect?_

_Look who’s talking._

The girl reached into a pocket on her black sweater, fishing out her own phone and turning it on. It was illuminating her pale face in an artificial blueish light. 

“Let’s just get this over with and get out of here.” She mumbled, flickering through various screens and going over several icons of dubious origin.

“Hey! You were the one who wanted to do this!” The boy protested, sounding offended. “Seriously if we get arrested or something I’m blaming you and your stupid blog.”

Shane was feeling a headache coming on. He didn’t mind teens, he knew he’d been an insufferable one, but these two made him want to facepalm and groan in frustration. It was like annoying teen 101, not even thinking far enough to realize that _breaking into_ and apparently _condemned_ building (thanks a lot asshole owners) would have no consequences. 

He looked back at Ryan, meeting his eyes over the shoulders of the two teens. Were they supposed to do something? Annoying or not, they couldn’t just let some kids wander off and get themselves killed. He was just about to speak when a familiarly infuriating noise cut him off. For a second, it sent his mind reeling before he placed it and looked down at the girl’s phone. Its speakers were blaring with white noise like they were on the verge of bursting, temporarily filling his mind and flooding out all other thoughts. From the phone came the all too familiar sounds of a spirit box. 

_A fucking ghost hunting app!?_

Shane felt himself tense up again.

First the building owners, and now these two _brats_ waltzing into the place he’d died in just a month ago with complete disregard for their own safety, brandishing some flimsy Appstore version of his most hated tool and filming like they were at a tourist attraction, not a crime scene. It was just one kick to the balls after another.

But just as he was about to leave in frustration he noticed that Ryan didn’t seem to take it that way. He was humouring them, trying to talk to them. Floundering and tripping over his own words. Repeating himself louder and louder as none of the sound carried trough. Apparently, he was placing more trust in their equipment then Shane did. Or maybe he was just that desperate. But that actually made it _worse_.

The ‘box’ didn’t work, of course. It did _nothing_. Just like Shane had said so many times before, just like before when _nobody_ had listened. He felt like the sounds were getting inside his own skull, the loud ceaseless droning kept building. He saw Ryan trying to speak through it. He seemed to wholeheartedly expect it to work. his efforts were rewarded with nothing but static. But still he kept trying. Asking for help, trying to speak. The people were talking over him. As desperation rose, Shane thought he saw a glimmer of Ryan the way he’d looked when he’d first found him. Lost, scared, hopeless. It couldn’t go back to that. These people couldn’t just come in and destroy everything like that. Shane gritted his teeth.

He felt like these people were undoing any progress he’d made. Ryan had been doing so well. Shane had kept his promise, he’d been putting Ryan back together. He’d put up with so much. He’d fought so hard to piece his best friend back together. And now these two were threatening to tear down everything it had taken him so long to rebuild. 

He felt like the noises were mocking him.

It was too much. His patience was already strained from his run-in with the previous couple. His ability to keep himself collected was almost stretched to its limits. The bottles in his mind were overflowing, spilling out, and drowning his reason.

In one fluid motion Shane had somehow gathered enough energy to grab the screeching phone and thrown it hard against the wall with an angry scream. It clattered against the concrete, pieces falling off and glass shattering. It felt good. The noises stopped. He turned back around, staring with fire in his eyes. 

The two teens had pressed themselves as far into the opposite corner as possible. Shaking like leaves, holding each other and starting petrified at the spot where Shane stood. The girl was breathing in short, shallow gulps of air. Tears in her wide eyes. The boy was ashen and looked on the verge of throwing up. As his mind began getting himself under control again, it registered that they were looking directly at him.

They could _see_ him.

He felt himself breathing heavily. An unfamiliar anger on every little movement. Sounding more like an out of breath animal than anything human. _It felt good_. It was _liberating_. Finally letting everything out. 

It felt good for about a solid minute, before his attention snapped to a small whimper behind him and he realized what he was doing.

_Shit. Ryan._

Ryan was starting at him. He was very clearly startled. He wasn't used to Shane lashing out like that. Shane was supposed to be the one who was always calm. He was supposed to be the stable one. He didn't just snap at people like that. Especially not some kids. Ryan stared at him, but he looked more than just startled. He looked horrified.

As Shane tried to speak, he caught a sight of himself in the reflection of the puddles on the still wet floor and was taken back. He looked appalling, manifesting horrific injuries as all the bad feelings showed trough, influencing his unstable form. His eyes were sunken and empty, his head bleeding and his chest broken. One leg nearly torn clean of, hanging by the skin and tendons. As his head spun he realized that he looked like a walking corpse.

Like he had when they’d died.

Pain he had almost learnt to forget began creeping back through his body. His eyes were glued to his reflection. He thought it barley even looked like himself. He felt the memories of death forcing themselves back into his mind. He remembered falling. He remembered collapsing as he’d hit the ground. His legs gave out again, useless and broken. Searing pain radiating from them as he fell to the floor. He wanted to scream, because he felt like he was back in that moment again. It didn’t matter that Ryan stood in front of him this time, awake and aware. In his mind there was only the broken, cold, body. Bleeding out onto the concrete floor.

He wanted to scream, but the memories wouldn’t let him. He remembered lying motionless on the floor. Struggling to breathe as the weight on top of him forced the air out of his lungs. He remembered hearing his own ribs crack under the weight as he felt himself pinned to the floor. Logical mind refusing to stop working, analysing and placing the injuries. No matter how much he’d internally begged to not have to know. He hadn’t wanted to know. 

He remembered being unable to speak, a stabbing pain inside his chest and a feeling like he had water in his lungs. Like he was _drowning_. He remembered trying to call out for help but finding himself unable to as he couldn’t breathe around the liquid filling his lungs. He remembered the taste of metal in his mouth and the realisation that something had punctured his lung.

The same mind that had been working in overdrive then was running out of steam now, refusing to recognise that that was in the past. That it was over. That he wasn’t dying, because he couldn’t die. Not again.

He was stuck. He was sitting on the floor, holding his head and trying to force the trauma back down. He had to pull himself together. He had to try to salvage this. He’d lashed out and he’d upset Ryan and that was what he’d been trying so hard to avoid all this time. He was fighting with himself. His head was chaos at the prospect of his own emotions undoing weeks of work.

_Get a grip! You’re ruining everything!_

He hit his own head, trying to snap himself out of it. He had to get the trauma under control. He had to force his feelings back on the shelf. It wasn’t important right now. He had a job to do. He had to keep being the stoic one. They both needed him too. Shane kept telling himself none of it mattered at the moment. The owners weren’t important. Someone else would take care of them. He just had to ignore them. These teens weren’t important. They weren’t hurting anyone. He kept repeating himself, trying to rationalize the anger away. Trying to make it all go away. 

He had to get away. He didn’t want anybody to look at him. Didn’t want anyone to see. He just wanted to be alone to try and calm down. But he knew wasn’t alone. Ryan was there too, looking worried and scared. In the corner of his eye Shane could see him approaching carefully with unsteady steps. The kids had turned tail and bolted. 

“S-Shane…?” He could hear Ryan’s faint voice. Wavering and just barely audible. There was a worried tone to it, one of genuine concern. But Shane couldn’t focus on it. He was too preoccupied fighting against the maelstrom that was his own mind. Ryan was speaking, but Shane couldn’t hear the words. Shane wanted him to leave, he couldn’t focus. He had to focus. Had to get a grip on himself. Ryan was too close.

Too close. Too much.

He felt a hand fall on his back, worried voice droning in his ears. Mixing in with all the feelings that were already out of control. He didn’t feel comforted, he felt trapped. Cornered. The closeness was claustrophobic. It was all too much. It had to stop. Something had to break.

His body moved on its own accord, the small desperate voice of reason in his head drowned out. He had to lash out at something. Ryan was too close. Shane snapped at him, yelling to get away. Forcing himself back onto his feet and using his full height as if trying to intimidate the imaginary monsters to back off. Crows that had been nesting in the rafters took off with one collateral hoarse screech and the sounds of dozens of panicked wings. Fleeing into the foggy morning. 

A hush fell over the building. For the first time in weeks, Shane’s mind drew a blank. Everything had gotten out, he felt like there was nothing left inside his head. The world turned to dark before his eyes. But then, it dawned on him what he was doing. The second the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. There was no danger there. There was nothing to fear. The monsters were gone. There was nothing there that wanted to hurt him.

There was just Ryan. It was just his friend. The one person he still had by his side, and the person he’d been fighting so hard to keep from seeing all the worst parts of himself. He’d fallen it seemed, and was on the ground as far away from Shane as possible. He was staring at him, shaken and unblinking. 

_Scared._

“Oh, no. R-Ryan, I’m so sorry I-“ Shane started. He had to explain, had to try to fix things. But before he could string together some form of coherent apology or excuse, Ryan flickered out and vanished. “W-Wait! I didn’t mean-!” He stopped, realizing it was too late. He was alone.

He’d driven away the one person he still had. He’d taken it all out on the person who mattered the most to him.

_You messed up everything._

New doubts and angers began flooding his mind, the one’s he’d temporarily driven out were coming back with a vengeance.

_You knew this would happen._

He didn’t bother fighting the thoughts this time. There was no reason to. He’d already ruined everything. He’d been trying so hard to keep that part of himself from Ryan. He’d been trying so hard to protect him from all the dark thoughts. It had done nothing. He was alone.

He felt anger rising again, mixed with all the guilt and shame. He’d blown it. 

The chaos began again, all the bad memories resurfacing stronger than ever. There was nothing left to hide. He let the anger take over, the meltdown continuing. He’d been _so close_ to fixing things. The situation had just started to look up. Now all of that was wasted.

Shane picked up the phone again, throwing it back against the floor with pure hatred and watching the pieces fly. Everything was ruined. He screamed loud enough to rattle the building. As he felt himself breaking, he took it out on everything in the room. Anything he could get his hands on. Bits and pieces of walls and machines were uprooted and thrown. It didn’t matter. Everything was crashing down around him, all the fear, all the anger, all the sadness he’d thought he could keep to himself. All the trauma that had been building silently inside for nearly a month. All of it was rushing to the surface.

He screamed and yelled and swore, until the screaming broke off into furious sobs.

Everything was ruined.

He was so tired.

He was so tired of everything.

* * *

Ryan practically threw himself into the first empty room he came across, hiding himself in one of the corners. Trying to shake off the panic and will the fears away. He wasn’t scared of Shane, he’d never be scared of him. But seeing him like that was too much. Too many bad memories. Maybe it was selfish, but he’d ran. He couldn’t take seeing it. He didn’t want to relive that horrible memory of seeing one of the people who mattered the most to him looking so broken and lifeless. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. When he tried to shut his eyes, the maimed body was all he could see.

It wasn’t like Shane to just explode like that. Especially not at some kids. Ryan felt so lost, he had no idea what could have prompted Shane to snap like that. Ryan had seen him frustrated to no ends by stupid theories, he’d seen him drunk out of his mind... He’d never seen him that truly angry. It wasn’t like him. Throughout all of this, he’d kept being his normal annoyingly jokey and laid-back self. What had happened?

An angry yell echoed throughout the building. Ryan pressed his hands over his ears and shut his eyes, trying to block out the painful screaming. He needed a second, had to try to calm himself down and try to understand what was going on. But he couldn’t block out the sounds. He felt them shake his entire being. Where had things gone so wrong?

Ryan was going over the last hour in his mind but couldn’t find anything that would cause someone to get so angry. Shane hated the spirit box, Ryan knew that. But he’d usually just go along with it with mild complaining. That couldn’t be it. Ryan went over the previous days, but he could only see things that had been getting better. They’d gotten rid of the shadow, they helped another spirit move on. Nothing really bad had happened to warrant a meltdown like that. At least Ryan couldn’t think of anything.

_Shane, what’s going on with you…?_

Ryan remembered some things that had caught his attention, he remembered a few off-hand comments and the persistent limp. But he couldn’t think of any big incidents since the fall itself. At least none Shane had been in. But… When Ryan thought back to the night before, he did remember something. An off remark he had almost missed in the heat of the moment.

_‘Ryan, let go.’_

He felt a chill. That was not something people who were okay said. You don’t ask the person holding you from falling off a building to ‘let go’. No matter how important what they’d been doing was. People _weren’t_ that quick to tell their friend to go on without them.

Another wail echoed, and Ryan began feeling nauseous.

All this time, had Shane only pretended to be okay? He had thought it was strange. How quickly Shane had moved on from the accident. How fast he’d accepted something he’d been denying for years. How completely unphased he’d seemed.

Guilt began nagging at Ryan. Had he had breakdowns like this before? Just when Ryan hadn’t been around? Had he just not had time to get away before the mask fell this time? Why? Why hadn’t Shane just told him?

Ryan needed to talk to him. He had to make sure Shane was okay. They were friends, they only had each other now that the building was completely empty. He vaguely wondered if that had something to do with things too. Without the lady and the shadow, there was nothing left to serve as a distraction. They just had themselves and each other. No clear goal or even a clue on what to do. It made sense Shane would be upset by it too.

Ryan mentally kicked himself for not having realized that earlier. Not having thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one hurting.

_Stupid, selfish…_

He had to check up on Shane. As soon as he calmed down enough so Ryan could actually talk to him, he had to make sure Shane was okay.

He sat in excruciating silence, listening to the sounds a floor below. Waiting for a good opportunity to go back. He hated the feeling of just sitting around and doing nothing. As he waited the guilt and worry kept growing until finally, finally, the sounds quieted. On unsteady legs Ryan left the calm of the small room, tracing the by now familiar route back through the building. Past the office. Trough the corridors. Down the stairs. It didn’t take him long to find his way back. Shane was still right where Ryan had left him.

The room was trashed. All furniture and machinery pushed up against the sides of the walls. Some noticeably heavy pieces impressively stacked on top of others. The floor had new cracks and holes in it, Ryan noted. But there was no dust or rubble covering it. Like violent winds had swept trough the room and pushed everything aside. A heavy silence lingered. Ryan could hear his every step over the floor. It took him a minute to actually see Shane where he was sitting alone in the middle of the cleared floor, nigh invisible. Barely even there.

Shane looked like he’d just about burnt himself out. He'd managed to pull himself back together again. Looking mostly like he did when he was alive. His eyes still distant and empty, but this time more so tired than dead. He looked so tired. His face was morphed into a dull, dead expression that didn’t belong. He was staring forlornly at nothing. Unresponsive. As Ryan approached, he didn’t even look up.

“Hey.” Ryan spoke tryingly. Shane still didn’t look at him, but he didn’t seem to express any aversion to Ryan’s presence this time. The earlier outburst probably hadn’t been strictly aimed at him then, Ryan figured, internally breathing a sigh of relief.

Shane still didn’t stir from where he sat staring into nothing. But speaking slowly and in a small voice, almost like he was struggling with it, he managed to ask Ryan; “Why did you come back?”

Ryan considered going straight onto the big question, but it felt wrong. There was never this loaded silence between them that lingered as he sat down next to Shane. The air felt too heavy. Ryan was feeling out of his depth. He wasn’t the one who ever had to try and help ground somebody else after a breakdown. Most of the time _he_ was the one having the breakdowns.  He wanted to find some escape into normalcy. Find some way to break the tension. He scanned the room for something else to talk about. Something lighter. His eyes landed on the very smashed up iphone in one of the piles of trash.

“Just curious too see if those kids were going to come back.” He shrugged. “I am not impressed. Honestly, what self-respecting ghost hunters let’s themselves be chased off by _one_ lousy ghost at five in the morning?”

It took Shane a while to answer. Too exhausted to think fast to respond and banter with Ryan like he usually did. But Ryan was patient, and after a bit he got his answer.

“You?” Shane replied flatly. Ryan didn’t miss a beat.

“I said self-respecting.” He hummed. “You take yourself to seriously. Kinda like that kid.”

“I’m not that obnoxious.” Shane defended. Ryan though he sounded just a little less tired, so he continued in that vain.

“Nope.” He agreed, lifting the word with a popping noise on the ‘p’. “You’re worse.” He quipped.

Ryan almost thought he saw a shadow of a smile on Shane’s face. But he still refused to look up. That was fine, Ryan decided. He didn’t need to see Shane to understand what he was feeling. Ryan knew him, he could hear the emotions carried on his voice.

“Hey, haven’t I been on my best behaviour lately?” 

Ryan fidgeted with the brims of his sleeves. The conversation was leading back to the main issue. He almost wanted to avoid the topic, just keep trying to make jokes and smartass remarks to cheer Shane up. But that would just be dragging things out. Better to just get the uncomfortable conversation over with. He hesitated as he spoke his next sentence, choosing the words carefully.

“That’s kind of the issue, though…” He began, looking at Shane sincerely. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“This whole act.”

“It’s a problem I keep acting happy?”

“The problem is that you aren’t actually happy, are you?” Ryan finished. Shane stopped speaking. His replies had started coming more automatically for a bit. Defensively. But then he’d stopped. They’d hit the heart of the issue. Ryan didn’t want to push it, didn’t want to pry. But he couldn’t just turn back. He felt like he’d opened a door, and there was no choice but to push on trough or risk his opening closing again. “It’s because of me. Isn’t it?” Shane’s silence confirmed Ryan’s sneaking suspicion.

“I… I don’t want to bring you down.” He admitted, his words heavy with unspoken shame. His shoulders slumped and his head hung low. Ryan felt sick.

"All this time you've been trying so hard to work trough my trauma for me that you've just been ignoring your own.” It finally hit him. Shane had always been helping him along whenever he was scared. Shane felt like he was obliged to. Ryan swore silently. “You’re hurt, and I didn't pay enough attention to notice. Stupid, selfish..."

“It’s not your fault.” Shane assured quickly, finally looking up. He was looking better, admittedly. His eyes weren’t as glassy. He didn’t look quite so resigned.

“It’s not something you should have to deal with alone.” Ryan answered, worry making his voice just a little too harsh. Shane turned again, refusing to meet his eyes.

“If I didn’t joke about it, I’d have to accept how bad it really is.”

“Sure. Accepting is hard. But you can’t start healing without doing that. Ignoring the problems won’t make them go away.” Ryan carefully reached out to him, placing a hand back on his shoulder. ”I’m your friend. I want to help you.”

Shane didn’t answer, but Ryan was getting closer. He felt it. One by one, those emotional walls were coming down. He just needed a bit more prodding it seemed. Ryan shook his head. Shane was his friend. His best friend. They only had each other left. Such a big part of Ryan’s small world, the one he’d found himself trapped in, was just Shane. In a way, Shane _was_ his world. He continued speaking.

“You don’t have to protect me if that’s what you think you’re doing. You don’t have to pretend. I don’t want you to have to do this anymore.” He said. His hand remained squarely on Shane’s shoulder. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

Ryan quieted, looking at Shane as he refused to face him. Waiting patiently and prepared to keep talking if he had too.

“Look, I’m not blaming you. I’m not angry with you. I just… I don’t understand why you’re doing this to yourself.” Still nothing. “Not when you have people willing to help.”

“I…” Shane still didn’t turn, the voice was small and unsure. Ryan could practically feel the emotions radiating off him in waves. Shame, sadness, fear, remorse… Ryan didn’t speak up, he waited for Shane to continue on his own. The secrecy had to end here, no matter how much it hurt. “I’m not okay.” He croaked.

Ryan kept looking at Shane’s back. He just barely caught a drop of water hitting the floor somewhere beneath Shane’s away-turned face. It was hard to stay where he was. He wanted to speak again, wanted to move over and hug his friend. But he held back, giving Shane space. Ryan only moved his hand from Shane’s shoulder to his arm. He felt an unsteady hand take it and hold on tight.

“I… I’m scared.” Shane confessed. Ryan kept looking at the ground where the droplets were now falling faster. He didn’t look at Shane. He wanted to give him that privacy. “I’m scared. I’m _scared,_ and I don’t know what to do about it.” It made sense. Shane was never usually the scared one. “It’s not just that… I… I’m confused, I’m _angry_ , I don’t understand any of this. I really, _really_ don’t. I don’t want to be stuck here. _I want to go home_.” It was painful. Ryan heard his voice breaking more and more, and he felt like he had a lump in his own throat as well. There was a stinging behind his eyelids. “I feel like I’m drowning, and if you try to save me I'm going to pull you under.”

Ryan spoke up. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“… I just want to go home.”

“I know. Me too, buddy.”

Shane finally turned.

In a second, he’d wrapped one arm around Ryan’s back and buried his face in the soft grey sweater. One shaking hand still holding Ryan’s hand at his side. He was whimpering, his entire body trembling. In that moment, despite his imposing height, he looked so small.

Ryan just sat there. Arms wrapped around his lanky frame. Rocking him back and forth, patting his back. Hushing him like he was a small child. Scared. Vulnerable.

Sincere.

Like for the first time since the fall, there was no barrier between them. No mask to uphold. No role to play. Just sincere, raw, emotion.

”It’s okay… Deep breaths, okay?” Ryan’s voice caught as he spoke.

“I’m sorry I fucked up. I’m sorry I scared you.” Shane croaked between hitched breaths. “Look at me...” He managed with a forced laugh and a shake of his head. “I’m such a giant fucking mess.”

“Nobody blames you for being scared.” Ryan assured. It felt so absurd to have to be the one telling someone else that for once, especially when that someone was Shane of all people. But he felt okay. His heart felt lighter. And piece by piece, he could feel Shane calming down as well. Despite all they had done these last few weeks, somehow this felt like an even bigger accomplishment. A secret that had been there for so long was finally being put to rest.

“How long have you been going on with all this just… Just eating at you?” Ryan asked warily. Shane was breathing slowly and deliberately, before speaking up in a somewhat steadier voice. Still not showing his face.

“Since about the second I woke up and realized we’d died.” He confessed. It had been such a long time. But if it had been so long then…

“Why today? Why now?” Ryan asked. He still didn’t know what finally pushed Shane over the edge.

“Remember the building’s owners?”

“Yeah, the lady with the weird eyeshadow and her husband?”

“They knew the upstairs was unsafe. Turns out the building is condemned, and they didn’t say anything because they ‘needed the publicity’ to start ghost tours and make money and whatever people with haunted houses do.” Shane muttered into Ryan’s sweater.

“… Fucking pieces of shit.” Was all Ryan could say. “Well, they got their publicity. Though I’m sure ‘killed two people by not following safety standards’ wasn’t the type of reputation they wanted.”

“Serves them right.” Shane replied. Then, with uncertainty; “They said they’re going to tear down the building. What does that mean for us?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan replied. There was a lot of things he didn’t know. But there wasn’t much they could do but take things one day at a time. It would be okay. They would figure something out.

He could worry about that later. He’d managed to get through to Shane, at the moment, he just wanted to be happy for that.

* * *

Shane smiled wholeheartedly for the first time in weeks. He felt better. It still wasn’t completely good, but he felt better. It probably wouldn’t be 100% okay for a good while, but he’d take it. The fears and doubts that had been plaguing him for so long didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

But when he looked in his mind there was still one bottle on the shelf. Worn and dusty, it had been hiding there behind all the others for longer than he knew. He couldn’t remember when he’d put it there. Couldn’t fully understand what it entailed. He just knew he couldn’t afford to let that one break. It wasn’t heavy like the others; it was the most important of his hidden feelings. It was warm, hopeful, and something more. It felt like sunlight at the end of a dark tunnel, like an umbrella in a rainstorm. Like a heart beating in a dead man.

A heart that beat for only Ryan.

It beat for the endless bickering and arguing, it beat for pestering Ryan with stupid stories. For good days of popcorn and the internet together. For sleepless nights huddled against each other in abandoned houses, joking until the sun came up and it felt safe to let go.

Yes, the bottle had to stay on it’s shelf for a bit longer. But Shane didn’t mind having it there.

He didn’t mind the feeling.

Somewhere along the way a line had been crossed. A line that couldn’t just be crossed back over, and one that frankly he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross back over. A point where there didn’t seem to just strictly be a friendship anymore. He didn’t fully know what there was, but he knew there was something there.

He knew what his heart beat for.

Somehow, he’d be okay. For real this time.


	9. All good things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back with another chapter! I'm really really sorry for taking so long, I just completely lost motivation. I was actually a little worried I wasn't ever going to finish this story, even if I had the entire outline in my head. But reading all of your comments and bookmarks and reviews (really, I can't thank you enough for that!) helped me get the motivation to see this project to the end.  
> Comments really help, and I just want to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart.  
> So for all the readers who've been sticking with me for this project; this is for you! Chapter nine, just one more to go. :)

There wasn’t much in their surroundings that could catch Shane off-guard anymore, not that he’d ever been particularly jumpy. The scuttering of rats didn’t faze him anymore. Rain, winds, and cold passed throughout the building without bothering its inhabitants. It was becoming colder out, Shane could feel it through what was left of his form. The morning air was crisp and cold. He couldn’t quite tell how far gone it was, but it had to be close to freezing. Winter was approaching.

Life, or what was left of it, had begun to settle again. But the passage of time was weighing on Shane.

He felt much less on edge since he’d ended up coming clean to Ryan about his problems. The worries weren’t so heavy when he didn’t have to carry them alone. But every now and again he’d wonder if he’d done the right thing. How much was fair to tell his friend? He still felt himself hesitate ever so often, but it wasn’t as awful as before. Ryan knew now, and he’d become good at recognising when he wasn’t given the whole truth. To Shane, his insistence was both annoying and touching. Like when Ryan had noticed Shane seeming a bit more down again that night a while ago…

-

“I don’t want to bother you.” Shane had defended as Ryan approached him in the now much calmer old office. He’d been digging trough any papers he could find. He felt like he was losing touch with the world outside their crumbling walls. Magazines, reports, a phone… Anything would do, really. He was just so restless. He felt he’d go crazy if he was cooped up for much longer. He had to at least find out what date it was.

Ryan had simply leaned against the doorway, thoroughly unimpressed at the mess of papers trailing from room to room. “You’re allowed.” He’d said, reminding Shane of their deal. 

No more hiding the bad stuff.

Shane had sighed as he turned from the open drawer, leaving it in disarray. Before, he’d wondered why ghosts would be doing those kinds of things. Just moving random stuff. Maybe they were as bored as he was.

“You know me well.” Shane smiled. Ryan had been getting a lot more observant lately. Quicker to notice when things got worse.

”Yeah, right.” Ryan replied, rolling his eyes. “Took me nearly a month to realize my best friend was depressed.” He muttered.

“I wasn’t _depressed_.” Shane insisted. “I was just happiness-challenged on account of being _dead_. And in your defence, I was doing a good job hiding it. Give me some credit here.”

“No, hiding like that was stupid. You get no praise.”

“Harsh.”

“That’s beyond the point.” Ryan shook his head tiredly. “What’s up this time?” He gestured towards the scattered documents.

Shane weighed his options, deciding it’d be less trouble to talk. “I found some legal documents a floor below.”

“And?”

“They’ve set a deadline for tearing this place down at the end of November.”

-

Time had passed since that exchange had taken place. The imminent destruction of what was essentially their home, depressing as that was, was something the two had decided not to discuss. There was nothing that could be done about it anyways, so worrying was pointless. That was what they’d agreed. No matter what happened, they just had to weather it out and stick together. That had been the decision.

But time was passing, and the month was soon ending. Shane didn’t know what day it was exactly. He couldn’t remember clearly. His memories had been going foggy. Anything from before the incident was like covered in a thick mist. The fall was the only thing he could remember. Far to clearly, and far to vividly. Shane shuddered.

Faces and dates were becoming obscured. Still, it was with dawning apprehension and a sinking feeling in his gut that he’d arrived at the conclusion that their time was soon up. Shane didn’t know what to feel. He’d wanted to leave, but as the possibility approached he found it far too uncertain for his liking. He hated the place they were trapped in. But he knew what to expect from it. For months, it was all he’d known. In the old house, he was on top of things. There were no uncertainties to menace him. Things could become so much better if they took that chance to get out, but what if they only became worse? 

It was bothering him. Just a little time left until all of this might end. Did he want that? Was he okay with leaving? 

_Do I really want to fade away?_

Life was all he’d ever know. 

_What happens when you stop existing?_

Shane couldn’t help but worry. He was having second thoughts. But he felt he couldn’t just stay doing nothing either. He’d lose his mind.

-

“Do you think we’ll leave if this place is destroyed?” Shane remembered having asked Ryan not too long ago.

“Worth a shot.” That was the answer he’d received. “I don’t think your ‘not buried yet’ explanation will cut it anymore. It’s been to long for them not to have done that.”

Shane had given him a sullen nod. He’d never really believed that was the reason either. He’d just needed something to reassure Ryan. 

“Besides, I don't feel like you're the type to care enough what happens to your body that it'd keep you from moving on.” Ryan finished like he was debunking a bs theory for the show. Shane couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory.

“Yeah, but-“

“You flat out confirmed that it'd be ‘pretty neat’ if your body got torn to pieces by wild animals.”

Caught of guard, the mention had made him chuckle. It was morbid, but… “I did say that.” He’d confessed.

“Maybe that’s it then.” Ryan had joked. “They _didn’t_ do that.”

“I’m going to go down there and be like; ‘You had one job! My only request was you NOT doing a thing! You numbskulls!’”

-

Ryan had laughed, and that had been the end of the conversation. But every time the subject had been brought up since then, Shane had found it harder and harder to stop thinking about it. He sighed, moving back into the shadows to think. He wondered if Ryan was doing the same. He’d wandered off again. 

_People just need some space sometimes._

Still, he couldn’t understand why the thought of Ryan leaving suddenly bothered him so much. Maybe he’d been getting too dependent on him lately. It wasn’t fair towards Ryan. Just because he’d wanted Shane to talk to him when things were wrong didn’t mean he wanted to be bothered all the time.

It felt cold without him. But Shane was determined to leave him alone. No matter how many times Ryan said it was okay, Shane didn’t want to be a bother.

But after a while, the air inside the building started to feel a little warmer. Winter would be there soon enough, but there were still warm winds now and again Shane supposed. Maybe there was some poetic meaning to that. Maybe he was just reading into it too much.

There was warmth in the air. 

The mouldy, stale, air became mixed with something new as well. A smell Shane could remember, but not quite place consciously after so long without it. But something instinctual in him started to become drastically more alert.

It took him a while to place the smell- it reminded him of the summer. He thought of that one time there’d been an office party, something about the food. Something like… Barbecue.

Suddenly he bolted up.

_Fire._

The smell was reminding him of fire.

Scrambling to his feet, Shane hurried to the nearest window and leaned as far out as far as it allowed him. He looked in all directions and couldn’t see anything. But then, he suddenly got a premonition of a familiar danger and looked up. In the small windows a floor above, he could see bright dancing lights. Spewing dark smoke, descending into the cold night. The fire was rising towards the building’s roof, licking the walls and turning everything a charred black. Ashes swirled around him like the snow that had been threatening to fall.

The smell was stronger now. Overpowering and horrible. Shane felt the air catch in his throat and subconsciously convinced himself that it was better to go without. It tasted like acid, old chemicals from long since unused factory supplies burning and spreading through the air. He stared transfixed before a crack and a crash from behind turned him around.

A part of the already broken ceiling had fallen, still burning and spreading the fire to the ground below. He backed up towards the wall, feet moving on their own like in a trance. He felt his body aching again with rising fears. 

Was this real?

The ceiling was caving in again. Was it real? It _felt_ real. His head began to spin as he looked up at the falling debris. He felt like the world was falling away from him again. Falling, falling, _falling_.

Things were falling all around him. Falling _through_ him. As he saw the structure crashing down, his mind started to relapse before he struggled back control. It would be okay this time. He refused to panic again. Never again. He pulled at the door handles but couldn’t grip them. He reached through the windows, but like a wall of solid air, he was stopped. His body refused to move through the buildings exits. He fought to calm his racing thoughts again.

_There’re several doors, there’s broken windows. There’s a lot of ways to get out. I just have to get out. I have to get out! I have to get out! How do I **get out**!?_

Inside his mind, thoughts were screaming frantically.

“Shane!?” He heard Ryan’s nearby voice, muffled by the smoke, but close. Immediately Shane felt himself calm just a little. He made an effort to ground himself before calling back.

“I’m here! Where are you?” He saw nothing through the darkened smoke. The heat was unbearable, but he stayed up. It couldn’t hurt him, he told himself.

_It can’t._

Following the other voice, he stumbled blindly through the dark. Navigating it mostly by memory. Reaching out, his hand landed on his friend’s shoulder. Close enough that Shane could make out his startled face.

“Shane? Is that you?” Ryan asked, trying to make anything out.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know! I think someone threw a bottle through the window upstairs and it just started burning!”

“I can’t get out.” Shane managed. Panic creeping into his voice. “It won’t let us leave.” Ryan just looked at him.

The building was going down. Whatever would happen to them when it disappeared was approaching. There was no time left to think of what to do. Whatever was going to happen was happening now. 

“Ryan-“ A loud explosion threw Shane off his feet, somewhere nearby an industrial gas container had blown up from the heat, sending shrapnel trough the two spectral figures. He looked into Ryan’s worried eyes.

Here in the swirling blaze, whatever had gone unsaid had to be said. It would soon be too late.

Shane thought of all the realisations he’d made in the time they’d spent alone together. The countless hours they’d spent caring about only each other in a world they were no longer a part of. Isolated from everybody else. Shane thought again of his hidden feelings. Of the last closed bottle on the shelf in his mind. Looking up through the darkness there was only Ryan. Bright form glowing through the dark smoke. There was only him, here. Here, where everything might end.

“Ryan, I need to tell you something-!” He stressed. “I-“

Shane stopped himself. Ryan wasn’t looking at him. His attention had snapped to something else, staring out the window and watching something with shock in his eyes.

Shane contemplated demanding Ryan stop looking at anything else, to _pay attention_. That he had something important to say. But he stumbled and lost his courage. All while his heart was screaming at him, he painfully swallowed his words. Instead, Ryan spoke. In a small, puzzled voice.

“… Brent?”

“What?” Shane hurried to the window next to Ryan. There was a sea of faces out there, just watching the building burning. It was like being at a convention all over again, only so much more morbid. But just as Ryan had noticed, in the middle of the sea of people were several of their old co-workers. All staring in horror as the building went under. Sirens were blaring, and out of the corner of his eye Shane saw the building’s owners being pulled into a police car. 

“What?” He whispered.

Ryan looked at the people, an expression of deep thought on his face. “Shane.“ Ryan looked up at his best friend. It wasn’t going to be the last time he did that. He wasn’t ready for it to end. “Do you want to go?”

Shane thought about Ryan’s words. He had wanted to leave so badly. But being faced with the possibility of finally fading away, he wasn’t sure anymore. The future was fearful and uncertain. He didn’t want to disappear. Didn’t want to be forgotten.

“No.”

Ryan looked back into the building, staring into the fire that was burning away all that held them. Then he looked at the creaking, unsteady, ceiling.

“Take my hand.” He held it out, not asking why, Shane followed his lead. Whatever may happen, they’d do it together. “On the count of three.” Ryan never took his eyes of the ceiling. Never looked away from the place that had been his last sight in life.

“What are we-“

“Three!” Shane’s eyes widened. The structural integrity of the building seemed to have finally taken more damage than it could stand. With a last groan like a dying monster the structure caved in on itself. Shane felt himself get tugged along by Ryan. The forces keeping him stuck to the building protested, holding them still. But as the last traces of their death went up in flames they became unstuck. The inferno burning the pain away.

The two stumbled and fell, landing side by side in the dry grass just a few meters away from the burning wreckage.

Another loud, angry, explosion lit up the faces of the gathered crowd. Like he building itself was enraged at having lost its prisoners. Like a dying animal, lashing out. Shane managed to push himself back onto his knees. He stared speechless as the rubble burnt. Still not fully comprehending that he was outside. No walls to trap him, and grass under his feet.

Ryan stumbled and got back up on his feet. “You okay?” 

Shane tried to shake off the shock. “Y-yeah. How did you…?”

“Just a hunch.” Ryan shrugged. “Something I remembered from a forum. Destroying trigger objects to free spirits.” He reached out a hand and helped Shane to stand back up again. He couldn’t believe it as he took his first hesitant steps outside in months.

“W-Where did the guys go?” He asked, looking through the crowd. Still unseen by the living people. Ryan surveyed their surroundings too.

“There.” Ryan said, pointing to a group of people walking away. “Do you want to follow them?”

“… Sure.” Shane answered, and the two began trailing after the group with a bit of uncertainty. He could barely believe it. 

The night was calm outside. The world suddenly felt so huge after all that time restrained to a single house. It was overwhelming, almost a little scary. Suddenly there was all those options that had to be decided on. But at the same time, Shane had never felt so relieved to leave a haunted location before. Although he supposed it wasn’t really haunted anymore.

Shane looked over at the group in front of him. TJ was there, seeing him was comforting in its familiarity. Some other crew members were there too, Shane was relieved to see them doing better after the trauma they’d all gone through together with him and Ryan. And finally, there was Brent. Ryan’s old co-host. Shane wondered why they’d been at the building. None of them lived close enough to have left home after the fire had started and made it there before it’d burnt out.

“TJ’s looking better than last we saw him.” Ryan mentioned. The silence was bugging him.

“Yeah, you’re right. I wonder who he films for now?” 

“Maybe the worth it guys.” Ryan did a grimace.

“Dude, we should haunt their asses.” Shane joked.

“Hell yeah.”

The conversation died down again, the group piling into a bar. Patrons sitting around gave them sideways glances at the lingering smell of smoke on their clothes as they sat down and ordered drinks, but nobody said anything. Wishing he could have a drink too, Shane instead settled for listening in on the conversation. Someone ended up bumping an arm trough his torso, visibly recoiling and shivering as they did.

“I just got the weirdest chill…” The man muttered.

“Feeling spooked?” TJ asked in a tone clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“Nah. I’m cool.” The man turned back to his drink. “Speaking of spooks, did you guys see that hoax video some kids?” Shane became attentive, Ryan clearly turning to look at the phone that was presented. The screen showed a very shaky view of the inside of the factory, a spectral figure they both recognized caught on camera for just a frame. Remembering that night made Shane freeze up for a second, looking away from the others.

“It’s okay.” Ryan reminded him. Shane turned back with a weak smile.

_No-one is judging you._

“I saw it.” TJ replied with disapproval. “Honestly. It’s so disrespectful.”

“Didn’t they take that video down?” A younger member of staff asked.

“Yes. It’s not even a good hoax and the creators know it. Wouldn’t have taken the video down if they didn’t.”

“To be fair, he did hate the spirit box.” Somebody else injected.

Ryan looked at Shane, he almost felt like laughing. “You’ve become an urban legend.” He said with a smile. Shane groaned.

“Oh, for the love of… I don’t wanna be a creepypasta, I have standards!” Despite the annoyance on his voice, he couldn’t deny he was happy to finally be somewhere else than the old factory. Anywhere else.

“I’m still mad about this whole thing. I can’t believe they actually burnt the place down.” Brent finally spoke.

“I guess the owners couldn’t afford to tear it down safely.” Someone shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d come to be honest. It was a while since you worked with us.”

“The building was supposed to be demolished soon, so I figured it was my last chance. Believe it or not, I don’t think anybody really cares if I show up considering those guys are both, you know, _dead_. But if anything, I’d probably feel bad if I didn’t ‘pay my respects’ or whatever so here I am.”

“Sceptic.” Shane noted. “I like this guy.” Ryan ignored him.

Brent emptied his glass and declared to the rest of the table that he was going to go get another. Turning in his seat to where Ryan sat unseen beside him in the booth. 

The sound of a glass shattering against the floor rang out through the dingy bar. Ryan turned towards the sound, seeing Brent who’d dropped his glass to the floor in shock, and was now staring at him pale faced.

“R-… _Ryan_!?”


End file.
